Tangled Destiny
by Kiyoko Michi
Summary: Fate is a fickle thing. Sometimes, all it takes is a little... push, and everything changes. Skyfire didn't crash in the storm- Starscream did. The war continues on.  AU
1. Deviations

Tangled Destiny

Chapter 1: Deviations

…

Starscream was laughing as they landed on the ice covered ground, sending up puffs of snow and ice chips to swirl around their frames. His excitement was infectious. It trickled across the bond in warm, playful waves, and Skyfire couldn't help but smile back at him. The air currents that had taken them here were some of the roughest on the planet, and his engines were aching pleasantly from the flight. He didn't share Starscream's—all Seeker's, really—obsession with testing himself against the elements, but he always enjoyed sharing the relaxed, pleasant vibes from his bondmate after flights like these

Skyfire glanced around the barren landmass they'd landed on. White surrounded them for as far as he could see, White snow, white hills, and even the grey sky above them was only a shade darker than the ground. There wasn't much to study here, but Skyfire already found himself itching to find out what kind of organic organisms could survive in a climate like this.

They'd already gotten all the data they needed for their report from the rest of the planet, but Starscream had insisted on ending their journey here. Now, Skyfire suspected Starscream had just wanted to test himself against the unpredictable air currents.

"C'mon, Starscream," Skyfire said. "We need to get some actual readings taken before we head out."

The wind was, thankfully, dying down now, so he didn't have to yell to be heard. As enjoyable as the air currents on this planet could be, Skyfire preferred a calmer environment while he worked. Not that the data mattered all that much now—this planet, while unbelievably rich in energy sources, was much too far away to be of any use to Cybertron. They were mapping out this planet so thoroughly to satisfy their own curiosity more than anything.

"Relax, Skyfire," Starscream said, raising his hands over his head in a luxurious stretch. "We've got plenty of time."

Starscream indulged himself for a while longer before taking off in a random direction. Shaking his head, Skyfire meandered in his own direction, though he kept the bond wide open. As they worked, Skyfire was careful to keep his partner within sight. It was harder than it seemed. Starscream would often flit from place to place while he explored, gazing intently at whatever new marvel had caught his interest. On organic worlds like this one it was often worse. Starscream tended to get distracted by the miniature life around them. He'd never admit it, but the Seeker shared his fascination for organics.

A thread of annoyance twisted its way into the back of Skyfire's consciousness, and he let out a soft chuckle. Starscream. He'd grown accustomed to the constant thrum of the Seeker's spark in the back of his processer and the occasional, flitting emotion from his partner over the last few vorns. The hint of irritation didn't bother him. Honestly, the annoyance from the fickle Seeker was more amusing than anything. Starscream was probably frustrated by some harmless drop in the ice or snow in his intakes. It wouldn't be the first time.

Skyfire bent down to examine a fissure in the ice, absentmindedly noting the darkening clouds above them as he examined the untouched patterns of frost beneath. He idly bottled and sub-spaced a small sample, stumbling slightly to regain his balance as the snow shifted under his weight.

There was no warning before the storm hit.

It was nothing like the rough currents that had brought them there. Those winds had been harsh but predicable—a mesmerizing dance of air and power that nonetheless followed its own shifting patterns. The storm was different. It wasn't a dance; it was a brawl. Unpredictably, uncontrollable, and so very, very dangerous.

The world shifted around him with unbelievable speed. One moment Skyfire was calmly studying the ice patterns, half his processer still occupied with the flutter of emotions coming from his partner, the next was chaos.

The grasping, violent hands of the wind hit him first. Already half unbalanced, Skyfire was thrown off his feet by the sudden blast of air. The wind caught on his outstretched wings, forcing him off the ground before he could even register the vicious change. He was thrown once, hard, against the ice before the gale forced his dented frame back up.

His vision dissolved into white flecks, audios filled with a muted roar of air as the blizzard consumed him. Sensors going haywire, Skyfire reached out for his partner. His com and navigational systems glitched from the crash, but their bond strengthened easily. Starscream's presence clicked reassuringly against his own.

Relief, fear, and frustration flooded the open connection. Skyfire sent a flash of concern and reassurance back at the feel of his presence. Starscream was still functioning, but he'd been caught as well and his lighter frame would make the grasping hands of the storm even more dangerous. Skyfire tried to control his frenzied flight path to follow the link to the Seeker, find a way to reach and protect the slighter mech, but the storm stole his sense of direction and barred any semblance of control over his frame.

With a wordless prayer to Primus, Skyfire activated his thrusters in the direction of what he hoped was the ground. The extra power let him break free of the dizzying currents and stabilize himself somewhat, but the chaotic swirl of sensations stubbornly refused to make sense. He could only face towards what he hoped was open air, mind still open to his bondmate's condition, and hope for the best.

Later, when he was calm enough to look back on the frenzied breems in the blizzard, he knew it was pure luck that got him out. Even with his thrusters working full force, the sheer, immovable force of the gale stole any sense of what he was doing. His optics were all but useless, and an unknown number of important systems had been jarred violently offline. There was only ice and wind and mindless, instinctual reaction. He was flying wildly, directionless.

Starscream was the only constant in the chaos. Skyfire clung to his bright presence of the Seeker as he struggled with the spinning world. The feel of his fury and determination was both a solid connection to center himself on as well as a reassurance that his partner was still online. He had no doubt that Starscream was in pain from the storm, possibly even damaged as he'd been, and blocking the feeling from the bond, but his spark still felt strong.

Then, almost worse than the wind, ice began jamming his joints. The white flecks burrowed their way into the cracks in his armor, robbing his systems of energy and mobility. A burst of heat from his thrusters melted some of the ice, and Skyfire hissed in pain as the freezing water caused his circuits to spark.

Then, almost as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Skyfire burst out of the ice flakes into jarringly clear gray skies, the wind's grip slacking into something he could wrestle control over. He was higher up than he'd expected- his wild flight had, thankfully, carried him into the skies instead of the ground.

The first thing he did was to send a pulse of relief at Starscream to let him know he'd found the edge of the storm. Acknowledgement and concentration filtered back to him, the bond opening further as the Seeker started trying to follow it out. Skyfire angled himself towards the faraway ground. He may have gained control of his flight, but the still-harsh winds jerked painfully against his wings, pulling at the already damaged metal. He was able to touch down a few moments later, the ice caving in slightly under the impact. It was a relief to have the near-solid ground under his feet again.

He stared worriedly at the direction Starscream was in, but the flecks of white in the air blocked his sight. Starscream was strong, but he couldn't help but worry about the lighter Seeker still trapped in the wind. There was nothing he could do to help him, and Skyfire hated being safe when his partner was still in danger. Going back into the storm would only get himself lost again; the best thing he could do was try to guide his bondmate to him and safety.

The dark emotions that flickered into his spark were both a blessing and a curse. They reassured him that Starscream was still aware, uninjured enough to feel the spiteful frustration and fury at the tempest. They also reminded him that his partner was in danger, struggling, and there was nothing he could do to help.

He jerked to attention as a flood of emotions suddenly choked the bond. Starscream's emotions started going haywire- anger, pain, even flat-out terror hit Skyfire like a blow. He immediately tried to send something back, to do _something, _but Starscream didn't respond to him at all.

Then there was a blast of pure, utter _panic _from the Seeker that sent Skyfire's systems into overdrive, and- nothing. The bond went completely, terrifyingly silent. No emotion, no words, not even the familiar, constant hum of Starscream's spark against his own.

_Nothing__._

For a moment, everything stopped as his processer locked up, refusing to process what the empty bond was telling him.

When he could think again, his first, panicked thought was that he needed to find Starscream. Now. He _needed _to get his partner out of the storm and safe, fix whatever was blocking the bond (because there was no way he had actually deactivated. Not Starscream, not from some slagging _storm_). He nearly flung himself back into the chaos where he'd last felt the Seeker's presence before his logic center reasserted itself.

The chaos of the blizzard was still fresh in his memory. If he flew back into that without even a semblance of a plan, the probability of making it back out again unharmed was distressingly low. The probability of managing to find Starscream again, especially without the bond's help, was nonexistent. And that was unacceptable.

If he wanted a chance of finding and repairing his partner, he would need to wait until it was calm enough to fly. To at least be able to _see _where he was going_. _And much as his spark screamed at him to go immediately_,_ he forced himself to follow his logic.

Instead, Skyfire tried to reach out across the bond, to find anything that could lead him to Starscream. He tried to sense a hint of the other's presence, but there was only emptiness where there had once been emotion. Coldness instead of familiar spark-warmth. His systems faltered for the moment at the jarring absence, but Skyfire forced himself not to flinch away. He carefully probed the edges of their connection in search of _something_- some clue to his location or hint of his condition. But there was nothing.

And as the numbness started to recede from the bond, the broken edges where his spark had once melded seamlessly with Starscream's started sending out painful, torn signals. Skyfire let out a soft sound of pain and his hand automatically darted to his chest, but he couldn't soothe the ache in his spark.

He tried to access his navigational systems again to pinpoint his coordinates and have some way to identify where he'd landed in the unvarying land, but the system only came back with errors. He had no way of marking where he was or where he'd last seen Starscream. He would be flying blind, no matter what he did.

Skyfire couldn't go back into the storm, but that didn't stop him from moving. The wind was too strong to fly, so he paced laboriously along the outskirts of the blizzard, looking for some sign of Starscream's presence. His optics desperately scanned the impenetrable air, but no color broke up the constant white.

The storm had to be moving, shifting gradually away from where he'd first broken out, but he had no way of telling. The ground was too uniform, the snow too fluid, to measure any change in location. He tried to keep track of how far he'd moved, but he wasn't used to functioning without half his systems to guide him.

Even on the outskirts, the specks in the air made it impossible to see far. He could only pray that when the blizzard ended and visibility increased, he would be able to find the swell of the Seeker's frame along the flat background.

But when the air finally calmed, there was only white, unbroken snow.

* * *

><p>--

Skyfire didn't know how long he searched.

Desperation drove him for the first cycles after the storm. A certainty that Starscream was injured, _fading_, somewhere, and he only needed to find the Seeker and he could fix him, restore the connection. As the air continued to calm, he flew in ever widening circles, looking for some deviation in the ground that would lead him to where his partner had fallen.

There was no way to organize himself. The constant shifting of the snow obscured any signs mere kliks after they were made, and his navigational programs were useless. When flying failed, he tried to coordinate some sort of system on the ground. Starscream could easily have been buried by the snow, systems shutting down to contain the damage from whatever injuries he'd sustained.

Starscream was resilient. He could survive for a while in emergency stasis, even damaged and buried in ice. He'd just have to remain online long enough for Skyfire to find him. Skyfire would _not _even allow himself to consider how damaged Starscream would have to be to deaden the bond. (And Starscream was damaged, not deactivated, _never _deactivated)

He used every scan he could think of to find any abnormality in the ice, but most of his diagnostics had been offlined from the storm, and he didn't have the knowledge to repair the delicate circuitry. He was stuck with only his optics and rudimentary systems he had to tweak from their original purpose just to work.

As cycles faded slowly, terribly into orns, a new problem came up.

The energon converter they'd been using was gone. Lost, somehow, during the storm. Skyfire didn't remember whether Starscream had been carrying it or it had been ripped from him during the blizzard, but it didn't matter. It was gone, and he had no way of synthesizing more energon. It meant that he had a time limit. Without fuel, there was only so much time he could spend searching before his frame gave out on him. Desperate, Skyfire doubled his efforts, but he still couldn't find a hint of the Seeker. As the solar cycles dragged on, his hope that he would find Starscream, unshakable in the beginning, began to fall away from him.

Time was measured only by the rare occasion that low energy levels forced him to find temporary shelter for recharge, and by his steadily dropping fuel levels. He'd long since turned off his chronometer, along with every other non-critical system he could spare to conserve energon. It wasn't enough.

The orns stretched on without success, and eventually, unavoidably, his energon levels went critical. And Starscream was still lost.

* * *

><p>--

Skyfire stared despondently at the empty ice, the fuel level indicated flashing cruelly at the bottom of his HUD. Sixteen percent was left- the absolute minimum amount that would let him return to Cybertron. Any lower, and even if he did manage to find Starscream he wouldn't have the fuel left to bring him home.

If he stayed any longer, he would deactivate. There was no other option. No clever strategy to get around it, and he knew it. He needed to leave the planet if he wanted to survive.

Leaving meant abandoning Starscream.

Yet- his processer wouldn't let him delude himself anymore. He'd been searching for so many of this world's solar cycles without a sign of the Seeker. Starscream had a smaller fuel capacity than he did. Even if he had remained online after the crash, he would have deactivated from fuel depletion already. Skyfire's frame shuddered in spark-deep grief.

Starscream… Starscream was gone. The miniscule chance that Starscream had somehow survived whatever had torn apart their bond had dwindled with each passing solar cycle. He was searching for a cold frame, not a mech.

Was finding his frame really worth his own life?

Skyfire's spark cried out that it was. The part of him that refused to accept Starscream's deactivation without touching his empty frame demanded that he keep looking until he found the Seeker, no matter what. It insisted that Starscream didn't deserve to have his frame abandoned on some strange, alien planet.

But his processer disagreed. His logic center brought up the illogicality of Starscream's survival and the uselessness of staying here any longer. The irrationality of throwing his life away to find a broken frame. He'd be walking willingly to his own deactivation. No matter what his spark demanded. Starscream… Starscream wouldn't want that.

So Skyfire turned away from the unfeeling ice where his partner was buried.

The path back to Cybertron was engrained in his processer as it was for every planetary explorer, part of his very code. It only took a klik to activate the sub-routes that would guide him home, a call so fundamental he didn't need his navigational systems active to follow.

The first few steps, knowing he was leaving his partner behind, were almost impossible. Agonizing, and Skyfire almost turned back, logic be slagged, instead of abandoning him. But his desire to live was too strong, and Skyfire kept moving.

His thrusters activated, and the ground fell away from him in strips of white.

Maybe… maybe someday he'd be able to return. He could find a new expedition or gather funding to return some other vorn when he had the resources to bring Starscream's frame back home. Give the Seeker the honorable burial he deserved.

He laughed bitterly at the thought- the _excuse _to justify leaving the planet alone. Leaving was logical, was necessary, but that didn't mean he could comfort himself with useless platitudes. He was leaving Starscream behind. His partner had deactivated with only a wall of ice-filled air between them, and their bond would always remain silent and broken.

It would be a long, lonely journey back to Cybertron.

* * *

><p>~.*.~<p> 


	2. Return to Cybertron

Return to Cybertron

* * *

><p>Space was cold. Empty.<p>

Silent.

Skyfire passed through the emptiness between galaxies and the darkness where no starlight reached. Where there had once been beauty and countless marvels to explore, there was now only unforgiving darkness and harsh light. Calmness and freedom turned to empty, meaningless misery. Metacycles past in silence, and through it all he had nothing to do but think, and remember.

Skyfire felt Starscream's absence like a blow. There was nobody to debate inconsequential theories with or consider the surrounding scientific phenomena they'd passed. No arguments or familiar, light banter to break up the monotony or bright, vivid pulses of emotions to warm his spark. Only silence. There was only the unending emptiness of the far-flung cosmos, and the painful memories that rushed in to fill it.

He had vorns of memories of the scientist to dwell on. Memories of everything from the unending persistence with which Starscream had pursued whatever caught his interest to the sharp, destructive fire of his anger. He had come to know the familiar idiosyncrasies and quirks of the mech in the close quarters of the lab and, later, the isolated vorns of the expedition. After they'd bonded… he'd known Starscream's very spark, the essence of his personality.

Every glimpse of memory or thought ended with the same thing. Ice and wind and the horrible tearing in his spark.

Eventually, Skyfire forced himself into stasis to escape the accusing images, uncaring of the inherent dangers in turning off his sensor net during flight. With Starscream gone, he couldn't bring himself to care about what would happen to him. Chance had determined his escape from the alien planet but not Starscream's, so he'd allow the same to guide him back to Cybertron.

He drifted for countless metacycles, only vaguely aware of the passing time. So long as the memories were kept at bay, he didn't care. Only the pull of Cybertron kept him moving, drawing him inexorably forward even without his conscious input. Skyfire didn't feel the pain as debris impacted his frame or notice how dangerously close he passed by the occasional black hole or burning sun. Luck kept him out of their grasp, just as luck had brought him out of the storm.

When he finally crashed back on Cybertron, he was near-stasis. With his conscious mind buried deep within his processer, he didn't notice the chaos of his arrival or the brief panic his uncontrolled landing caused when he collided with the surface. He didn't feel their attempts to contact him from orbit or the hands on him after he landed, pulling him out and carrying him away.

The first thing he was aware of was a strange mech, the familiar marks of a medic adorning his frame, standing over him. The sounds of an active med-bay filtered through to him, and Skyfire could feel the strain in his processer that indicated a medically induced retrieval from stasis. The rest of his frame was numb, and his sensor net was completely offline.

He was back. The thought brought no relief to his processer or, really, any emotion at all. It was simply a fact. He had survived the journey, and luck had, once again, kept him online. He was here, safe and whole, while Starscream was still back on that uninhabited planet.

"What's your designation, Shuttle?" the medic asked softly. His arms were down in a familiar, peaceable sign and his armor was loose in an unthreatening gesture, but that couldn't hide the caution in his optics. The mech obviously expected him to be confused, maybe even violent as he awoke. Skyfire tried to move his hand and wasn't surprised when the limb refused to move. Of course they'd offlined his motor controls. It was the logical thing to do with an unfamiliar, possibly even insane patient.

Skyfire had no desire to speak to the stranger, but it would be rude not to respond. "S-skyfire," he croaked, surprised by how harsh his vocalizer was from its long disuse. "Ex-pedition. I-Iacon."

The mech nodded calmly. "Thank you, Skyfire." Movement flickered in the corner of his vision- a second mech, barely a blur of color, rushing away. Skyfire laid there unmoving, staring blankly at the ceiling and ignoring the movement of the medic and other mechs around him as he waited for something to happen.

A touch to his arm, barely a light pressure on his numb sensor net, brought him back breems later. The medic was staring at him again with concern written clearly on his face. "You're registered as having a partner," he prompted. "What happened to him?"

Skyfire shuttered his optics in pain at the reminder. The question, innocent as it had been meant, hit him like an accusation. His partner hadn't returned from the expedition with him. Primus… he'd need to explain what had happened to him. Maybe not now, but the Academy, the Enforcers- they'd demand an explanation for the missing mech. And Skyfire would tell them everything. Starscream deserved that much, at least.

Just not now.

"Crashed," he whispered painfully. "There was- storm. I couldn't- couldn't find him." Skyfire couldn't bring himself to say anything else, and even that sent a pained shudder through his frame.

He onlined his optics at the feel of the medic's hand against his shoulder. The mech was still there, optics dimmed in sympathetic sadness. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said simply.

Unfamiliar anger rushed through Skyfire at the platitude- an ugly, unpleasant feeling. The medic had never known Starscream. Would not grieve the loss of his Bonded in any way other than this shallow façade of empathy. He would never meet the contrary, paradoxical Seeker, with his bristly personality, cutting temper, and yet insatiable thirst for knowledge and fierce loyalty to whomever he deemed worthy.

To him, Starscream was just another nameless, deactivated mech. Worthy of pity, but ultimately forgettable.

Skyfire didn't answer the medic, repressing any sign of his brief fury, and the mech soon moved out of his field of vision. He occasionally heard the light murmur of conversation beside him, but he didn't bother even trying to listen to whoever was speaking. Eventually, he felt a light, clinical pressure on his neck, and Skyfire fell gratefully back into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>Skyfire stayed under the medic's care for a long time.<p>

After the first time he was onlined to identify himself, Skyfire remained in near-stasis as the medics brought basic systems back online and began fixing near-critical damage. His consciousness floated without thought, neither aware nor concerned for anything of his physical body, and for a time he was held in a delicate, numb sort of peacefulness.

The only other time he was brought prematurely out of the induced stasis was when a member from the Iacon Academy came, looking for information. It was easier to speak with them than he'd anticipated- they spoke in facts and numbers, and Skyfire emotionlessly transferred to him all the star charts and careful documentation the two of them had taken for the unexplored planets.

He still had to repress the occasional memory surge of how Starscream had worked with him to discover these answers, but it was easier to push the images away and the mech waited patiently for him whenever he lost control. He'd, thankfully, already been informed about the loss of his partner on the trip and was unexpectedly tactful at the situation.

The true questions he dreaded about Starscream's deactivation would come later, after he was fully healed and the investigation couldn't be put off any longer. The coming meeting with the Enforcers would undoubtedly be worse, for no matter what they decided about the deactivation, he would be forced to recount his loss in excruciating detail for them. At least this was merely a factual visit from the organizations that had funded their expedition.

Regardless, Skyfire made sure the mech recorded Starscream's part in the discoveries. Starscream had always been paranoid that somebody would steal his work- that he would be forgotten, cast aside after his deactivation. A remnant of his time before the Academy, when he had been just one of many faceless warrior-frames expected to enter the War Academy.

Skyfire refused to let that happen.

The scientist left as soon as they finished, with a reassurance that the Academy labs would remain open to him after he recovered. Skyfire didn't bother answering. Without his partner working beside him, he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to take them up on the offer.

Eventually, Skyfire was healed enough that he was taken out of stasis permanently. He was still significantly damaged, as the medics often pointed out. His long drift in space, both the degradation from so long in stasis and the mindless collisions, had severely damaged both major and minor systems and circuitry. Thankfully, the situation prevented the medics from reprimanding him much on his decision to put himself into stasis.

Fully aware of his surroundings again, he had little to distract him from his loss.

The broken bond was a constant, horrible reminder of the Seeker. His spark ached with emptiness that flared into sharp pain whenever he went near the hole where Starscream used to be, but he couldn't stop himself from touching the shattered bond whenever his thoughts were drawn back to the Seeker, which was often.

He spent cycles feeling painfully along the remnants of the bond for anything of Starscream that still remained. Some echo that had remained in the Bond. Sometimes, he could almost imagine he could feel some shadow of his spark left in the bond, a whisper of warmth in the emptiness. He prayed for even the illusion of his presence, even knowing how impossible it was for him to actually feel Starscream again.

Even when he wasn't deliberately touching the bond, he could never forget its absence. Over the vorns of exploration, using the bond to check on his partner's condition had become automatic. He still instinctually sent the queries and system pings that had once saved their lives, but now only met the frigid, painful nothing.

His spark cried out for its match, for the bright, warm pulses of another's spark, but there was nothing he could do.

Starscream had been _everything. _His partner, his friend, his _Bonded. _For so many vorns, his life had revolved around only the Seeker and their work. His Creators were long since deactivated, and there was no other he'd considered close. He had been a solitary mech, by nature and by choice, and had easily faded into the background of life at the Academy.

Starscream had been the only exception. He'd been his opposite in so many ways- passionate, temperamental, erratic- but he had _fit _into Skyfire's life. He'd forced his way into his life and experiments, carving out his own niche in the scientist's life until he couldn't imagine an existence without him.

Now he was alone.

* * *

><p>It was orns before one of the medics came to him with news that there were two mecha that wanted to see him. He didn't need to hear their designations to know who they were and why they'd come.<p>

He'd been waiting for their arrival ever since he onlined, dreading when he'd finally be forced to confront them. Even with orns to prepare for the meeting and try to find some way to tell them, Skyfire had no idea how he was going to face his partner's old Trine.

He had only met the two Seekers a handful of times on the rare occasions they'd come to Iacon to visit Starscream. He'd known far more about them from Starscream, who'd occasionally spoken of their trinebond during their separation, and the occasional echoes of their personalities he'd felt through his own bond with the Seeker. What little he knew was based on the facts that they were both military, extraordinarily talented, and had been a Trine for a very, very long time.

For a Seeker, Trine was everything. From the first weak echoes of a bond with their Creators to the full-fledged spark bonds of an adult Trine, they were never without a wingmate against their spark. Losing a Trinemate was considered one of the worst tragedies that could befall them, and few remained sane on the rare occasions that both their wingmates were deactivated. Starscream had told him about a Seeker he'd seen that lost his entire Trine only once, when he'd been teaching him about Seeker culture, and he had never brought it up again. A broken Trine rarely took another Seeker to fly with them, let alone into their bond. It was a precious, near sacred thing.

And he would have to explain to Skywarp and Thundercracker how he'd let their trinemate deactivate.

Much as he desperately wanted to avoid speaking with them, they deserved to hear what had happened to Starscream directly from him. He respected their connection to Starscream at least that much. So when the door whispered smoothly open to admit their somber forms, he met their gaze as evenly as he could.

His first thought was that they looked… weary. Almost broken by the abrupt destruction of the spark bond much the way he imagined he still was. They stood pressed against their remaining trinemate, visibly taking comfort from each other's presence in the wake of their loss. Both their wings sagged carelessly along their chassis in a clear announcement of their sorrow to anyone with the barest knowledge about wing-language. If he looked, he could even see where their chassis were still dim and scuffed from the long trip from Vos to Iacon. They hadn't even taken the time to polish themselves before rushing to the hospital.

Despite their obvious grief, both mecha stood tall, almost composed as they entered. Even in their mourning they were by no means weak, and Skyfire found his respect for the two Seekers grow at how they could hold themselves together so well when he could still barely force himself to function alone.

For a moment, they looked at each other wordlessly, neither willing to break the fragile silence separating them. As he waited, Skyfire couldn't help but notice just how similar in appearance the two were to Starscream. They had the same build, same bright crimson optics, even similar color patterns. He'd known they were of the same model type, but it was still an aching reminder of what he'd lost.

Skywarp was the first to speak, ending the shared hesitation. "So he's dead," he said blankly, vocals wavering almost imperceptivity and dulled optics just barely meeting his own. It was more a statement than question. They would have felt his death through their Trine bond as surely as he had.

"Yes," he confirmed hoarsely, and the word seemed to almost echo in the deathly silent room.

Skywarp let out a wavering, involuntary keen of pain that he quickly silenced, and his optics darkened as he attempted to regain his tenuous control over himself. Thundercracker immediately shifted closer to his remaining Trinemate and brushed a comforting hand against his wing with a sorrowful hum of sound. When he turned back to the Shuttle, his emotions were barely under control. "How did it happen?" he asked quietly.

Skyfire could feel his entire chassis tense, the clatter of armor deafeningly loud in the near noiseless room, at the question he'd been dreading. He'd finally be forced to put Starscream's deactivation into words, label it in a way that seemed so pitifully inadequate to describe what had happened.

He wouldn't make any excuses for his inability to save his partner. Not to his Trine, and not to anyone else. He would willingly accept whatever punishment they chose for his failure.

So Skyfire explained everything, for the first of what was going to be many times. Haltingly, hesitantly, he began explaining how the two of them had found the bright planet. He described their arrival and initial luck, and their final, fatal decision to search the planet's artic poles. Then he told them of the storm. How it had scrambled their systems and torn them apart without warning. How he had barely managed to make it out by chance before the bond snapped, and the long, futile search that had followed.

The two Seekers were silent. They didn't say a word while Skyfire stumbled through his explanation, and the room lapsed into silence again when he finished. Skyfire bowed his head and offlined his optics, half-expecting them to attack him. To condemn him for leaving their Trinemate behind, letting them get separated, choosingto bring Starscream with him in the first place… He braced himself to hear from them what he already knew for himself.

But they didn't.

Without his optics, Skyfire didn't even notice the two Seekers getting closer. The hand on his shoulder was so unexpected Skyfire almost jerked away instinctively when his sensor net registered the touch. He onlined his optics to see Skywarp standing almost directly beside him, optics still glimmering with renewed grief. Thundercracker stood silently next to him.

For a long moment, Thundercracker just stared at him silently, thoughtfully. Finally, he inclined his head briefly. "Thank you."

Skyfire jerked up, optics flaring slightly as he processed the statement. Neither of them reacted to the sudden movement. "_Thank you?_" Skyfire repeated in incomprehension. "What? But why would- I'm the one that got him _deactivated. _Why would you _thank _me?"

"For telling us," Skywarp answered. His vocalizer was still soft with grief. "Letting us know what happened to him. When we felt the Bond-" he shuddered in emotion and his vocalizer snapped offline to prevent another pained sound from dragging him back under. The hand still on his shoulder tightened, and Skyfire could feel the small tremble as it passed through the Seeker's frame.

Thundercracker took over when Skywarp couldn't continue. "We thought we would never know where he was or what had deactivated him. You gave us that."

Skyfire could only stare at them in utter disbelief. It… couldn't be that simple. It just didn't make _sense. _They were supposed to blame him, curse his name for surviving when Starscream hadn't, blame him for leaving him behind. That was what he'd expected, what he'd been prepared for. Not this- completely undeserved _absolution._

"I should have saved him." The words fell from his lips in a veritable flood of guilt. "I was _right there. _We _knew_ the atmosphere was unpredictable- I should have been closer to him. If I'd only been closer, _faster _I could've-" His voice dissolved into static, and Skyfire bowed his head in pained silence at the admission.

His systems nearly stalled in shock when a hand rested gently along his wing before uncertainly brushing against him in a half-familiar, comforting pattern. When Skyfire didn't immediately throw him off, the gentle strokes became firmer. Skyfire could only stare in astonishment as Skywarp offered him, _him,_ who they barely knew and had just confessed his presence in their Trinemate's deactivation, the most intimate form of comfort between Seekers.

To a Seeker, their wings were their lives. Their city, their culture, their very existence revolved around their flight. Touching another's wings in any form was almost solely reserved for Trine or mecha that had proven themselves trusted beyond a shadow of a doubt. To offer such a gesture to a mech they barely knew, no matter how close he'd been to their third Trinemate, was unheard of. Unmistakable.

That gesture of familiarity and trust, far more than anything else Skywarp could have possibly done, spoke volumes of his honest reaction. And despite his incomprehension at the Seekers' response and the inescapable guilt, Skyfire finally began to relax, tension filled hydraulics beginning to loosen and the rigid set of his wings falling ever so slightly.

Even as he began to speak, Skywarp didn't stop the consoling motion. "Starscream wouldn't want this. Not from any of us," he said quietly. His voice stuttered at his name, and a second tremor passed onto Skyfire's chassis. Unexpectedly, Skywarp gave him a small, wavering smile. "Slag, he'd probably kick your aft for thinking you had to take care of him."

Skyfire voiced a humorless laugh that was more a sob, but he half leaned into the gentle, soothing caresses to his wings. He was left to consider what they'd told him in silence, and only the quiet rasp of metal on metal was heard.

Skywarp's comment, brief as it had been, had meant more than the dozens of generic platitudes he'd heard since onlining. Unlike all the other mecha who'd never so much as seen Starscream, Skywarp was _right._ Starscream, prideful, independent mech that he had been, would have been infuriated by the insinuation that he was in any way less capable than his partner. If he was here, he would be pointing out how it had ben luck, not skill, that had gotten him out, and how he'd had just as much a chance of escaping as Skyfire did. In fact, Starscream would have probably called his guilt a self-indulgent arrogance and a delusion that he was a better flyer than the Seeker. He'd have seen it as an insult to his pride and skill.

Starscream… wouldn't have blamed him.

Even after that revelation, the guilt hadn't lessened. He had still left Starscream behind, had been unable to find his frame, had, even with his more advanced sensors, been too distracted to notice the coming storm, but though the guilt was still there, it was more bearable. Duller, or at least not quite as all-consuming.

As Skyfire, for the first time, mourned Starscream with the two others who truly understood what he'd lost, he felt that, for now, that small relief was enough.

~.*.~


	3. Embers

Tangled Destiny

Chapter Three: Embers

...

Skyfire stared up at the imposing marble pillars of the academy entrance. The Iacon Science Academy took up a full block of the city and stretched high above his helm. Intricate carvings decorated the walls of the entrance hall in an ostentatious display as mecha of all shapes and colors bustled across the open floor. The crowd parted around Skyfire's frame as he moved forward.

Being back here was strange. It had been vorns since he'd last been in these Halls, but the Academy didn't seem to have changed at all, down to the delivery drones swerving above their helms. The Academy had invited him to resume his previous position, and Skyfire had accepted. It had seemed the right thing to do.

He walked through the Academy halls in a haze, blindly allowing his feet to carry him down familiar twists and turn. Optics followed his frame and whispers sprouted up around him, but Skyfire barely noticed. He didn't register much of anything from the moment he entered the building until he found himself standing in front of a familiar set of blast doors deep inside the building. Their old labs. Only his, now.

His hand trembled as he reached towards the keypad. The passcode hadn't changed in his absence, and the door glided easily open. He froze in the entryway, and his spark lurched in pain. The lab looked exactly like it had when they'd last left it, from the neat lines of glassware on the counters to the stocked supply closets behind them. He stumbled inside, allowing the doors to hiss closed behind him, but couldn't force himself to move any further.

He'd come here because… He wasn't sure why. Because he had nowhere else to go. He'd been thoroughly sick of the sterile walls of the hospital, and returning here had seemed his only other option. The labs were at least familiar. Here, at least, he could try to pick up the pieces of his old life instead of endlessly dwelling on what he'd lost. Now that he was actually here, he was starting to regret his decision. The air in here was cluttered with old memories. They were an almost physical presence weighing down his wings and bowing his shoulders. He'd met Starscream for the first time in this room. They'd trained and fought and experimented here for dozens of vorns, and the room had never been silent with his bondmate around.

If he offlined his optics, he could almost pretend that Starscream was still there, rummaging through the chemicals and picking up glassware. He reached out, running a hand along the pitted surface of a table. Shallow divots marked where droplets of acid had eaten away at the steel and heat-warped metal distorted the surface.

Skyfire clenched his fist and lifted it from the metal, onlining his optics as he moved. He should get to work. He picked an old, unfinished project file at random from his memory banks and opened it. It only took a moment to remind himself of the experiment. Then he grabbed a beaker, intending to get started, and froze, staring into the empty glass. It felt wrong. Starscream was supposed to be here beside him, filling the silence with theories and observations and every stay thought that passed through his processer. He hadn't worked on his own since before he'd met the Seeker.

The glass thunked as he lowered it to the counter again, and Skyfire had the sudden, overwhelming desire to just leave. There were too many ghosts here. Too many reminders and sensory echoes everywhere he turned. He couldn't focus, could barely even _think, _and he could feel himself panicking but he couldn't-

"Interesting place ya got here," a strange voice said behind him. Skyfire's hands clenched on the beaker, nearly shattering the thin glass, and he spun around.

Skywarp stood only a few steps behind him, casually inspecting an empty vial. The sight was so far outside Skyfire's expectations that he could only stand there, gaping, as Skywarp set the vial back down on the table and grabbed a seat on a nearby chair.

"How did you get in here?" Skyfire asked. His spark calmed as his processer focused on the new problem, and he latched onto the distraction desperately. The labs were strictly monitored. Nobody without official access should have been able to get inside, let alone a warframe like a Seeker.

Skywarp shrugged, sprawling comfortably on the chair. "I 'warped. I tend to do that," he said. His optics darted around the room as Skyfire stood there speechlessly. The silence stretched on until Skywarp, fingers twitching uneasily, continued. "'S a nice place," he said, glancing around. His optics lingered along the workbench "It's weird, being back here again. Sta-" he stuttered, swallowed, and continued. "Starscream brought us here a coupla times when we visited Iacon. He was… happy here. Happier here than he'd been back in Vos, anyway."

The mention of Starscream sent a sharp pang through Skyfire's chest, which worsened as he inevitably brushed the cold, empty bond again. He latched onto the less painful thing Skywarp had mentioned instead. "I never saw you here," Skyfire said.

Skywarp just shrugged. His wings had started twitching, though he tried valiantly to still them. "Nah. You wouldn't have. Starscream likes…_liked_ to keep things separate. It freaked him out him when stuff from Vos and stuff here collided. TC and I were the only exception, and he still ge-_got_ all flustered when we hung around here too long."

"He was a private mech," Skyfire agreed. His voice was hoarse, and he quickly turned away. The beaker was still sitting on the counter where he'd left it, and he picked it up again. The solvents he needed were in the nearby cabinets, and walking over to get them was a welcome diversion.

As he worked, he kept waiting for Skywarp to say something else or reveal the purpose of his visit, but nothing happened. Skywarp seemed perfectly content to just sit there, watching him work. Finally, Skyfire's curiosity got the better of him.

He set the reaction mixture back down to settle then turned back to face the Seeker. "Skywarp, why are you here?" he asked. It came out slightly more accusatory than he'd intended.

Skywarp flinched, wings dipping. "I heard you got released from the medics. Figured you'd come 'round here." His optics darted towards the door. "I can go, if you-"

"No! No, it's fine," Skyfire quickly countered. "I just… wasn't expecting you." He looked around at the empty room. "I think I could use the company." If Skywarp really was here just to check on him… He didn't understand it, but he wouldn't turn him away.

Skywarp smiled—a small, soft quirk of his lips that seemed strange on his face. Back on the table, the solution had started to precipitate, signaling the start of the next step. Skyfire quickly picked it back up and continued on. Even though he could still feel Skywarp's optics on his back, it wasn't nearly as discomforting this time.

"Where's Thundercracker?" he asked as he got started on the next sample. This soon after their loss, he wouldn't have expected to see the two Seekers further than ten feet away from each other.

"He's still in the rooms. Today was a bad day."

That only made his confusion worse, but Skyfire didn't press the subject. He knew what bad days were like. Although… "Are you sure he should be alone?" he asked. Broken bonds could be dangerous, and the presence of his remaining Trinemate would surely help.

"Probably not," Skywarp admitted. His wings fluttered with worry for a moment before steadying in determination. "But neither should you. TC will be fine for a couple a cycles."

A comfortable silence fell. Skyfire continued working but, as he turned towards the storage cabinet for more materials, he faltered. Hesitantly, he turned his head back towards Skywarp, who was still watching him with curious optics. "Could you just… talk?" Skyfire asked, stumbling slightly in embarrassment.

Skywarp tilted his head and asked, "About what?"

"Something. Anything. It's too quiet in here."

Understanding dimmed his optics, and Skywarp nodded. Then he started to talk. The words came hesitantly at first as Skywarp stumbled through a stilted description of the air currents around Iacon. That transitioned into a description about Vos, and Skywarp's voice soon evened out into a steady flow of sound. The words faded into the background as Skyfire started to work

Skywarp finally left cycles later, undoubtedly returning to his Trinemate's side. The sound of his voice lingered in the air long after he left, leaving Skyfire at least one untainted memory to hold up against the others in the room.

* * *

><p>--

When Skyfire returned to work the next cycle, Skywarp wasn't there. Of course he wasn't. He had his own life with Thundercracker, and they would undoubtedly be returning to Vos soon. He still, foolishly, spent the entire orn half expecting to hear Skywarp's voice behind him. Even without Skywarp's presence, Skyfire managed to make it through the shift. And the next one. Eventually, he managed to fall into a rhythm. He buried himself in numbers and statistics until there wasn't any room for thoughts or guilt while he worked. He and Starscream had once made a name for themselves through their revolutionary theories, but, alone, Skyfire only performed the standard experiments the Council ordered. It was easier that way.

Other scientists stopped by every so often—mecha he'd spoken and worked with before—but their presence always rang false and their condolences even more so. The few casual friendships he'd once cultivated had faded over his long absence until the mecha seemed to be strangers now. He was willing to acknowledge their feigned sympathy and nothing more. Death had made them polite, but Skyfire was under no illusions about what the others had really thought of his bondmate.

If Skyfire had cultivated allies, then Starscream had reveled in making enemies. The Seeker had been the only Warframe and one of very few flyers to be accepted into the Academy. It hadn't taken much to scandalize their peers, and Starscream had enjoyed making them squirm. He'd never cared one iota about their opinion. Skyfire had always admired that about him.

Sometimes, Skyfire's spark would ache. Throbbing, painful ripples that centered on the broken bond and radiated outwards. In the beginning, they were an almost constant ebb and flow of pain, impossible to ignore but expected. Starscream's deactivation had damaged his very spark, and spark injuries never truly disappeared. His spark slowly numbed to the pain of the broken bond, though the sense of isolation never left.

Still, it was bearable. He had almost begun to get used to being alone in his mind again when the first spark glitch hit him.

Skyfire was thrust violently out of recharge by an abrupt, all-consuming pain in his chest, far worse than anything he'd felt since the bond had first been broken. A sudden, searing cold infused his frame, and he could only gasp helplessly as he shuddered on the berth. The sudden agony left no room for thought or confusion, only a primal awareness of the crushing pain. It seemed to center in the tattered bond in his chest, and for a moment he thought his very spark would sputter out under the weight of the ice.

He couldn't even access his 'coms to call for help. His systems had been scrambled by whatever had happened, caught between the conflicting signals from his spark and processer. All he could do was endure and wait for something to give.

Eventually, almost unexpectedly, the frozen pain began to recede. Feeling crept back into his limbs, chasing the ice out of his systems. His spark was the last to return. Skyfire stayed curled around the agonizing ice in his chest long after the rest of his frame had recovered, futilely trying to force some heat back into it until even that began improving. Even then his spark continued to send out brief, irregular signals of pain in aching waves.

For the rest of the recharge cycle, Skyfire lay unmoving on the berth. Unwilling to acknowledge what had happened, he kept his mind forcibly blank as he focused only on making it through the lingering pangs as morning slowly approached.

The next morning, he didn't go to a medic. He didn't even consider it. After all, much as he would like to deny the knowledge, he knew what had caused the episode, and there was nothing a medic could do to fix it.

The bond. _Starscream_.

He didn't know exactly why it had happened, but there was no denying the cause. Even if the pain in his spark's broken bond hadn't clued him in, the frozen sensation so similar to that horrible storm would have done it. The pain might have been some lingering connection to his bondmate's frame or an echo of his deactivation. Either way, there was nothing that could be done about it. A small part of him even thought it rather fitting that he'd experience the pain of his partner's deactivation in some small penance for leaving him behind.

So he got up the next morning and, ignoring the occasional, lingering flares of frozen pain in his spark, carried on as if nothing had happened. He returned to his lab, let the orns lapse back into monotony, and tried not to think about what had happened. He almost succeeded.

Then it happened again.

This time he was in his lab when the blinding pain in his spark returned. The same crippling, frozen agony hit him, and he fell to his knees as his control over his frame gave out. It lasted for endless breems before, leaving him trembling unsteadily against the floor. When the pain finally faded enough for him to think again, he probed along the bond itself for an answer. The bond was open, far more than it had been since Starscream's deactivation, but he couldn't feel anything past that. The sensations dissolved into an impenetrable, frozen wall that made his spark ache at its touch. With a shudder, Skyfire backed away and threw up his mental shields again.

Then Skyfire stood up, cleaned up the broken glass and solvent that had fallen to the ground when he collapsed, and returned to work.

* * *

><p>--

An orn later, Skyfire received a 'com request from a number he only vaguely recognized. He had to unarchive some old memory files to discover that the identification number belonged to Thundercracker. Confused, Skyfire accepted the call. He only grew more confused as Thundercracker gave him a rather formal request to meet with him and Skywarp at a walkway near Skyfire's residence building. Skyfire accepted despite his uncertainty.

The two looked decidedly out of place in the grounded walkways of Iacon. They were the only other flightframes in sight and stood taller than almost everyone around them. Skywarp's face lit up as he caught sight of Skywarp. Thundercracker's reaction was more reserved, though not unfriendly. Thundercracker looked worse than his trinemate. His plating was slightly scuffed from neglect, and his wings hung slightly too low on his back to be normal. His optics were bright, though, and determination hung around him like a shield.

As Skyfire approached, he noticed that the two's wings were twitching in the achingly familiar way that Starscream's always had when he was uncertain but too proud to show it any other way. Skyfire half expected them to bolt immediately, maybe after some awkward excuse for their meeting. He wouldn't have blamed them.

Instead, both Seekers stood their ground as he approached. Thundercracker even stepped forward to meet him. "Skyfire," he greeted. "It's a pleasure to see you."

Then the Seeker gave his Trinemate little nudge, and Skywarp opened his mouth. "I... wanna apologize about 'warping into your lab. I shouldn't a done it without your permission."

The apology was obviously prompted by Thundercracker-Skywarp hadn't even seemed to realize that could've been a problem the previous orn-but the flighty Seeker seemed sincere regardless. "It's alright," Skyfire said. "I enjoyed the company."

Skywarp's face lit up in relief, and a grin spread across his face. Thundercracker's frame loosened slightly, though he remained stiff. Skyfire had the sudden urge to fix that.

"There's a small park a short walk away. Would you like to walk there?" he impulsively asked. He didn't suggest flying over, though that would have been faster. To Seekers, flying together was a very intimate thing. He hasn't known them nearly long enough for that.

Skywarp agreed enthusiastically, and he even earned a small smile from Thundercracker. As they walked, Skywarp keeps up a steady chatter. Thundercracker spoke sparingly, and Skyfire only had to listen and occasionally chime in to keep the conversation alive. By the time they reached the small, cultivated grounds of the park, Skyfire felt more comfortable voicing his own thoughts, and the conversation flowed to more interesting topics.

Starscream's absence lingered between them, unforgettable and intrusive. They ignored it; the wounds were still too raw to share yet, and Skyfire didn't know the other two well enough to pour his spark out to them. It was oddly reassuring though, knowing they were there.

The cycles passed quickly, and soon enough the night cycle began darkening the sky.

"Would you be willing to meet with us again next on?" Thundercracker asked.

Caught by surprise, Skyfire didn't immediately answer. His processed immediately filled with questions and doubts, but he didn't let himself overthink it. "I would be honored," he said honestly.

He earned one of Thundercracker's rare smiles with that, and Skywarp seemed barely able to contain his glee. They parted ways soon after, and Skyfire made the short flight back to his quarters alone. As he flew, Skyfire realized their visits had been the only social interaction he'd actually enjoyed since his return. It was a strange thought. Not unpleasant, but odd.

* * *

><p>--

The two Seekers continued their erratic visits. It was a strange but welcome interruption from the monotonous grind of his daily life, and he found himself craving their company. It had been too long since he'd had a good conversation partner. Or anyone he could talk to, really.

This time, when the two Seekers arrived, something seemed off. He couldn't place what, but the Seekers seemed slightly different today, just enough to pique Skyfire's worry. Their nervousness, which had entirely disappeared after the second gathering, suddenly reappeared. They shared sly, darting glances when they thought Skyfire wasn't looking. They tried to carry on a normal conversation, but it didn't quite work.

Frowning, Skyfire thought back. Easily a dozen orns had passed since the two Seekers first came to see him. It was barely any time for their species, but the two were only visiting Iacon. They still had responsibilities waiting for them back in their hometown. Their leave had to be running out.

So the next time the conversation lulled, Skyfire asked, "When are you going back to Vos?"

The question visibly started the two Seekers, and they looked at each other silently, wings flicking and expression shifting minutely as they spoke through their trinebond.

"We leave Iacon in an orn," Thundercracker admitted.

So soon… Skyfire nodded in acknowledgement but didn't speak. He didn't trust his vocalizer yet. He'd known they needed to return home, but an orn... They must have come to say goodbye. The thought troubled him more than it should. He had no claim to the two Seeker's time. He barely even knew them, after all, but the thought of their absence still sent a pang through his spark.

Skywarp must have seen something in his face, because he quickly interjected. "We won't be gone for long though! I can 'warp, remember? Plus I work as an Intel courier now—I travel all across Cybertron. He smiled reassuringly. "Trust me—you're not getting rid of us that easily!"

Skyfire answered Skywarp's grin with a smile of his own, but his processer was still conflicted. He glanced between the two Seekers, noting how oddly earnest they seemed. "I don't understand," Skyfire admitted. "Why are you doing this? You're under no obligation to come here. You have your own lives in Vos, so why…"

Neither Seeker answered him immediately. Good. He wanted a real answer, not empty platitudes. A silent conversation passed between the two of them. Skyfire waited patiently.

"Starscream saw something in you," Skywarp finally said. "He liked you, and he didn't like many mecha. I figured you'd be worth getting to know." He smiled. "And I was right. I can already tell I'm gonna really like you."

Skyfire hesitantly returned the smile, flattered but uncertain how to respond. He was grateful to the Seekers. He'd only known them for a short while, but there was potential there. He wasn't sure how to put it in words, so he simply said, "Thank you"

"You don't need to thank us," Thundercracker said. "We're doing this because we want to."

Embarrassed, Skyfire turned the conversation to different topics, but a soft, pleased glow warmed his spark for cycles. They stayed long into the night cycle, but eventually the two Seekers had to leave. Trepidation coiled in Skyfire's spark as he watched their frames disappear. No matter what they'd said, they were leaving Iacon. He'd never trusted easily—not for important things. Yet, as Skyfire turned back inside, he hesitantly allowed himself to hope.

* * *

><p>--

They came back. It took a quarter vorn—one scattered with sporadic 'com conversations—but they arrived on his doorstep, looking exactly the same as they last time he'd seen them. He welcomed them inside, and that was that.

As time continued to pass, Skyfire grew used to their semi-regular visits, and he even began to look forward to them. They migrated from the energon bar to quieter parts of Iacon, and, eventually, he allowed them into his flat as well. He was honored the first time they invited him to fly with them, something Seekers rarely did outside their frame type.

Sometimes they spoke of Starscream,. On those days, they would often reminisce on his character and memories, both the good and the bad. After so long surrounded by mecha who'd barely known the Seeker, it was a relief to talk to someone honestly about his bonded. Someone who wouldn't desperately avoid the subject or ignorantly idealize him, and Skyfire thanked Primus for the chance to talk to someone who actually understood his loss_._

Other cycles, they would speak of less painful things. The Seekers were nothing like him, or even like Starscream had been. Skyfire was a scientist, a pacifist even, and Starscream, with his volatile personality and pride, had ultimately rejected his frametype's traditionally military mindset. Skywarp and Thundercracker were different. They were both primarily military, and that mentality often colored their opinions, creating a fascinating contrast with what he was used to.

Slowly, Skyfire grew to know the two Seekers, and he began to understand why they and Starscream had chosen each other. As time dulled the strength of their grief, more and more of their personalities reemerged.

Though he began to crave the simple cheerfulness Skywarp carried with him, Skyfire had far more in common with his other trinemate. Thundercracker was calm, resilient, and, above all, insightful. He paid attention to everything around him and was instinctively able to temper the more outlandish ideas of his wingmate. He would have been the perfect balance for Skywarp's occasionally shortsighted spontaneity and Starscream's mercurial personality, while Skywarp would have lightened Starscream's calm cynicism. As for Starscream… he would have been the catalyst. The ambition and intelligence that drove the Trine onwards.

There was always a hole beside them- the unspoken, unforgettable absence of the Seeker that had balanced their personalities. But even as the hole would never disappear, it began to dim. Skyfire could see a Seeker approaching and think _Thundercracker _or _Skywarp _instead of automatically picturing his lost partner– could actually think about Starscream again without the pain.

He hadn't realized how much he'd lost before Skywarp and Thundercracker brought it back, and he realized with some surprise that the two had somehow managed to carve their own little niche in his life. Occasionally, he regretted that he hadn't gotten to know the Seeker before Starscream's deactivation, but mostly he was just grateful for their presence.

* * *

><p>--

Vorns passed, and with it Cybertron itself began to change. It was a gradual thing- barely noticeable from the insulated labs of the Academy. As secluded as he was, Skyfire would have missed its beginnings if it hadn't been for Skywarp and Thundercracker's visits.

He'd heard of the energon shortage himself. Considering how many scientists had been drafted to working on improving the collection process, he would have had to be blind not to take notice. He often heard of the resulting unrest, but it seemed far removed from Iacon. Unimportant. Without the two Seekers, he would have had no idea of the true magnitude of the crisis.

Skywarp and Thundercracker always seemed to be in the middle of what was happening around Cybertron. Thundercracker prided himself on knowing what was going on around him, and he had a knack for understanding politics and using it to his advantage. As military mecha, they had access to stations throughout Cybertron, and they had been called in to 'keep the peace' personally. Skyfire learned more about the state of the underbelly of the cities in a megacycle with them than he would have from an orn of listening to the official statements. What he heard was troubling.

He'd already known that life was often difficult for military and flightframes, especially in Iacon, and for the lower class in general. He'd seen firsthand how Starscream was treated for being a warrior model. From the subtle prejudices that invaded their work to the not-so-subtle disbelief that a Seeker could possibly have the intelligence to be a scientist, and his situation had been far from unique. He'd just been one of the few determined and skilled enough to force his way in regardless. As a Shuttle, Skyfire had it far easier, but there had always been an unspoken doubt that such a cumbersome build could possibly have become a competent scientist.

Many had it far worse.

The energon crisis had only forced the tension to the surface. When Skywarp began to describe what was happening in the slums Skyfire began to realize he'd barely even scratched the surface of what was happening. Of what _had _been happening in the darkened lower levels of the cities.

Even as a civilian-model and a pacifist, Skyfire easily sympathized with the disorganized rebels. Flight models in particular required more energon to function, and the crisis had hit them hard. With mecha looking down on them for the wasteful consumption and demanding stricter rations for high-energy models, the flight-framed and larger bots, who were often military themselves, struggled under the restrictions. Skywarp was lucky- with his ability, he was too useful to be shorted on energon, and he split his larger rations with his trinemate.

Many of the discontents, who the news stations displayed as violent and ignorant, were struggling to remain online at all. Thundercracker had been hesitant to describe what happened when the military was ordered to step in, but Skyfire could make a pretty good guess.

From the way they talked, many military mecha were becoming rather… disillusioned with the Council and the largely Civilian mecha that controlled their orders. Loyalty only went so far, and there were rumors of the more defiant bots starting to aid the rebels instead of removing them. They still followed their orders for the most part, but Thundercracker seemed convinced that with the right push, that would change.

The rebels were still weak. Disorganized and uneducated, the individual rebellions rarely lasted an orn after they took up weapons before they were taken down. Most of the sympathetic military bots were only grunts- they could give the rebels much-needed manpower, but without a solid strategy would end up quashed within a vorn, and they knew it.

They needed a leader- someone to unite the scattered groups, give them a purpose and a target.

Skywarp eagerly recited tales of the many, many failed attempts to take power and how quickly the mech was usually removed or deactivated. The rebels needed a leader to be a threat, but they were also proud. Nobody would follow anyone unworthy. Skyfire didn't know whether he hoped a mech would step forward to force the change Cybertron so desperately needed, or that such a mech never came so they could avoid the chaos and destruction that would undoubtedly result.

In the end, it wasn't his choice to make, and eventually they brought him whispers of a new, powerful leader beginning to emerge. A Kaon mech who had survived his bid for power and held a growing number of loyal mechs below him. He was an ex-gladiator and an enormous, powerful mech rumored to be undefeated in combat.

Skywarp and Thundercracker were absolutely enthralled by the mech.

They'd gone to see one of his public speeches as soon as rumors of the mech's growing success reached them. Whoever this Megatron was, he'd immediately gained their attention. They'd come to Skyfire's flat still glowing from their glimpse of the ex-Gladiator, optics bright and wings vibrating with energy. Skywarp in particular was completely fascinated. Something about the mech- his obvious strength, charismatic speeches- had captivated his processor. Skywarp carefully followed the mech's movements and the growing influence in the faction, and he enthusiastically shared what he knew.

With Megatron at their head, the changes in the rebels were frightening to behold. Within orns of his arrival, the rebels went from an annoyance to a true rebellion. The official newscasts refused to broadcast images of the mech or his speeches, but Skywarp freely revealed the clips of him, in battle and out, being passed around the lower ranks. Signs of the rebels began to appear, even in the streets of Iacon, as the faction grew larger and braver. Though the Enforcers of the inner-city tried to conceal the evidence of the mecha, Skyfire had seen their purple symbol painted or carved onto buildings throughout the city.

Eventually, his curiosity won out over common sense and Skyfire allowed Skywarp to bring him to one of the newly-named Decepticon rallies. The Seeker was ecstatic at the thought of seeing Megatron in person again, and Skyfire couldn't deny his own tentative interest. Megatron was too infamous to venture into Iacon yet, but it was simple for Skywarp to warp the three of them to the slums of the city Megatron was inside.

They stood at the back of the large crowd, veiled by the deep shadows of the buildings surrounding them and the grime that floated freely around them. The Seekers grimaced at the dirt that clung to their frame, but didn't complain at the simple fact of the slums.

Skyfire towered over the mecha around him. They were an odd mix of civilian and military, of thin, underfueled plating and scarred military armor. Almost all of them had the too dim optics of a mech low on fuel. Several had visible injuries or missing parts. Although most of the mecha were ground-frames, there were a few other flyers dotting the outskirts of the crowd. Skyfire was all too conscious of his bright, undamaged plating and the way he stood out from the crowd. He was the outsider- the higher class bot invading their sanctuary. Thankfully, it wasn't long before the rally began, immediately drawing the crowd's attention to the elevated platform in the center.

When he got his first glimpse of the infamous Megatron, Skyfire knew immediately how the mech had managed to capture the loyalty of such a volatile faction as the Decepticons. He moved with a fighter's grace as he prowled into sight, and his broad frame radiated immovable strength and danger. The crowd surged with a fanatic energy at the sight of him.

When he started to speak… He was entrancing. The mob stilled, the street disappeared, and there was only his rasping, powerful voice and prowling movements as his presence overflowed from the stage. Skyfire didn't know how the mech had learned his eloquence, but he spoke more like a noble than a miner, even as his ideals were obviously tempered by his experience. He spoke of victories and revolution, of violence and equality. An uprising that would toss the corrupt, haughty mecha off of their opulent thrones.

When he mentioned the injustices of the upper class, his anger was almost tangible. Overwhelming. It whipped the mechs into a frenzy, which he masterfully guided towards his ideals. He knew just how to push the mecha to harness their emotions, how to make them see what he envisioned and yearn for what he promised.

Skyfire left the rally with much to think about, thoughts churning uneasily in his processer.

Skywarp was all but vibrating with excitement from the meeting, and even Thundercracker's wings quivered with excess energy. They spoke in rushed, fervent tones about the speech, eagerly comparing insights and details, but Skyfire didn't pay attention to their hushed conversation. He was too caught up in his own thoughts on what he'd just witnessed. Not all of them as cheerful as his companions'

War was inevitable. If he'd thought the mounting unrest would escalate before, it was nothing compared to what he knew now. He'd seen the desperate forms of the workers and heard the strength it lent to their conviction. They wouldn't give up- not until Cybertron changed, and the Council would never accept Megatron's demands peacefully.

Megatron was everything he'd feared he would be and more. There was something… wrong about him. Something in his optics that seemed to almost contradict his flowery speeches and grand promises. Skyfire was tempted to call it madness, but- that wasn't quite right. There was nothing insane in the way he spoke nor irrational in how he united the mecha. No, it was something else- saner, but no less dangerous.

Even if he couldn't quite name what unsettled him, Skyfire had long learned to trust his instincts. And all of them were screaming at him to give this Megatron a wide berth, no matter what he seemed or how convincingly he spoke.

This was the mech who would be leading the Revolution against the very rulers of Cybertron. Who may some orn have part of the Military backing him- including his Seekers.

Skyfire shuddered, armor pressed tight against him in preparation for an attack that wouldn't come, but the two Seekers beside him, still murmuring excitedly to each other, didn't notice.

~.*.~


	4. The Fragmented Trine

Tangled Destiny

Chapter Four: Expanding Horizons

...

Megatron was a competent leader, almost frighteningly so. Soon enough, almost all the scattered rebels wore his symbol. Then more mecha, those who'd been balancing on the fringe, began declaring their support for the new faction. Some frametypes in particular flocked to his cause. Miners. Low-class laborers. Most warrior builds.

Seekers.

The frametype was both a flight-frame and overwhelmingly military- two of the rebel's most vocal supporters. Few had openly joined the cause, but it was an open secret that Vos's inhabitants were Decepticon sympathizers. They continued as part of the Military, but the higher-ups were well aware of the majority's shifting loyalties.

Skywarp lost his position as a courier- lost almost all access to sensitive information. So did Thundercracker. Instead, most Seekers were restricted to running routine patrols across Cybertron. It was insultingly simple compared for what they'd been trained for.

It was one of the few times Skyfire had seen Thundercracker visibly furious.

"They're not even _pretending _to have a good reason for it," he fumed, pacing around the small confines of Skyfire's flat. "Pit, they didn't even try to figure out who does or doesn't support the 'Cons- just reassigned every single Seeker to this slagging grunt work!"

He growled, armor flaring out aggressively. "So _stupid," _he hissed._ "_I know Seekers who are still loyal- who wouldn't even _think _about betraying the Military, and those fraggers don't even care!"

"It's just…" he slumped as his anger left him, leaving only an old, weary resignation. Skywarp was immediately beside him, lightly stroking his wings. Thundercracker leaned into the comfort as he continued quietly. "I'm tired of this. Tired of- of _all_ of this."

It was more than just the unofficial demotion. Seekers weren't truly welcome in Iacon anymore. They'd stopped traveling around the city- too many overcharged slurs and unprompted fights. Skywarp and Thundercracker had stopped even visiting the Academy after they found out Skyfire had been personally reminded that, in order to preserve the Academy's famed neutrality, any scientist associating with the Decepticons would be removed.

And so it continued.

* * *

><p>--

Soon enough, Thundercracker and Skywarp came to him with the unmistakable purple Decepticon symbols etched on their wings. Skyfire couldn't say he was surprised. They were fighters, by choice and function, and he'd always known which side they would choose to fight for. Still, the sight of those distinctive symbols made his spark ache with sorrow.

They stood in his doorway with their wings canted proudly even as their optics shone with uncertainty. They entered his quarters with their heads and wings held high, looking every bit a proud Decepticon soldier. Only vorns of friendship let Skyfire read the nervousness in their tense wings and sharp movements.

With a quiet murmur of greeting, he grabbed them a cube of energon, just as he always had since the energon restrictions began. With his back towards the two, he sensed more than saw their confusion. He turned back in time to see the two casting sidelong glances at each other, obviously speaking through their trinebond.

Neither relaxed as they sat down. They just stared at him silently, as if waiting for something. Whatever they wanted, Skyfire didn't give it to them. If they wanted a confrontation, they would have to make the first move. He didn't have to wait long.

"Aren't you going to _say _something?" Skywarp finally burst out, after less than a half breem of expectant silence.

Skyfire looked back at Skywarp steadily, and the mech squirmed under his gaze as the sound of his voice faded. There was… honestly a lot he wanted to say. He was concerned that they had bound themselves to Megatron and disappointed they hadn't even mentioned they were thinking about taking the brand, among others. But, honestly, the emotions were only dull reflections of what they should have been. He was tired too.

So he only sighed before asking, "What do you want me to say?"

Skywarp sputtered at his answer, wing tips flickering sporadically. "I don't know!" he exclaimed, glancing briefly at his wingmate for reassurance. "S_omething! _Not just- just _ignoring _it! I mean, aren't you going to- to"

He made a baffled, aborted gesture around the room before collapsing back into his chair with a muffled groan. Two pairs of bright red optics stared back at Skyfire, both looking for answers he wasn't sure he could give.

"To what?" Skyfire asked quietly. "Yell at you? Point out the obvious?" He paused, staring at each of them in turn. "What reaction are you looking for?"

They shuffled uncomfortably in their seat. "We're not blind," Thundercracker said. "We know you don't approve of the war or the Decepticons."

_That_ surprised him. After he'd seen how much the two admired Megatron and his faction, he'd tried to hide his own skepticism. Then again, he'd never been a very good liar. It also heled him understand their nervous reaction. They were worried, not just about his initial reaction, but that their decision might cost them his friendship.

Really, they should know him better than that.

He chose his words carefully as he made his response. "I may not outright support them or their methods, but that doesn't mean I disagree with what they're trying to do." He sighed. "I… can't deny that I would have preferred if you'd stayed away from the fighting, but… with everything that's happening, I can't fault you for your decision."

"We thought you would have tried to make us stop" Skywarp said, stunned.

"Oh, undoubtedly I would have tried," Skyfire said. "But I wouldn't have tried to force you. And…" he paused, trying to put the truth he'd tried to deny into words. "Somehow, I believe that trying to change your mind about this would be about as effective as the two of you trying to change mine."

A slew of emotions played across their faces—surprise, gratitude, happiness. "Thank you," Thundercracker said simply, and the words were rich with relief. Then they let the conversation flow back to more comfortable topics, avoiding mentions of the war altogether.

* * *

><p>--

Of course, Skywarp and Thundercracker weren't the only Seekers to officially defect. Thundercracker wouldn't have allowed such a risky venture. No, it had been a city-wide event. Apparently, Vos had declared full secession from the Senate's rule, taking all its military might with it. The Senate and official news stations tried to underplay the tactical disaster, but there was only so much they could do.

He was alone in his quarters when the news was officially unveiled. Sentinel Prime himself delivered the information in one of his rare public appearances, broadcasting all across Cybertron.

The Seekers were starting to rub off on him. As Skyfire watched the Prime begin, he couldn't help but marvel about how different he seemed from the last time he'd seen Cybertron's leader, many vorns ago. The Prime didn't seem invincible anymore. Skyfire wasn't awed by his position or the hidden presence of the matrix within his chest. The Prime was… a mech. A powerful mech, but no more intimidating than any of the Senate.

The Decepticons didn't despise the Prime nearly as much as the Senate, but it was a close thing. He was a civilian build as well and the single most influential mech on the planet. He hadn't spearheaded any particularly unpopular law, but that meant little in the world of political machinations. He certainly hadn't opposed them, and for many Decepticons that was good enough.

So Skyfire watched the Prime for the first time as a mech and not a near-mystical being, paying careful attention to how he delivered the news as well as what he said. He was, as expected, grim as he described the Senate's response to the defection. The responsibilities the military could no longer perform were now delegated to the Enforcers, a military offshoot with little in common with sparked warframes. Previously, they'd only preserved the peace inside individual cities. Now, they were expanding into a true interplanetary army under the Senate's control.

There was far more to the speech- platitudes, promises, statements of trust and strength- but Skyfire wasn't interested in that. There would always be political machinations and gilded promises, and it all boiled down to meaningless posturing. No, Skyfire was far more interested in what was actually happening as they frantically tried to recover from the secession.

The Enforcers would be struggling to keep up with their new duties. Currently, they were far too small and undertrained to take on planetary responsibilities. They'd clashed with the Decepticons before, but only barely. For vorns, the Force had stayed almost entirely out of the slums. They maintained order in the upper and middle classes, leaving the slums to create their own order. As a result, they'd never commanded much respect among the lower sectors, and they'd never even tried to attack the 'Cons directly.

The Enforcers answered only to the Senate, and that alone would make it worse than when the Military had dealt with the rebellion. They would not sympathize with the rebels as the military-builds had. Many would likely even share the common prejudices towards lower-class and military builds.

The fighting would almost certainly be escalating now. First while the Decepticons took advantage of the chaos, then when the Enforcers were strong enough to retaliate.

The last, resonant echoes of the Prime's voice finally faded from the broadcast, and he disappeared from the screen soon after. Skyfire dismissed the broadcast, but he remained sitting, just staring at the darkened walls surrounding him, until his internal clock reminded him he needed to recharge.

* * *

><p>--

Only an orn after the official defection, the unrest was officially upgraded into a true civil war. Even so, it remained distant in Iacon. A thing of hushed conversation and rampant speculation that contained more outright lies and half-truths than real information.

Like other cities, Iacon had its Decepticon supporters, but they were subdued compared to the other cities. Iacon was still the heart of the government, where the Enforcers were better trained and upper levels far better guarded. With the increase in the Enforcer's power, rumors of Decepticon activity anywhere in the city were quickly and harshly squashed.

The Iacon Academy was prestigious enough to be in one of the highest levels of the city, but Skyfire no longer lived nearby. He'd left the nicer place he'd split with Starscream and all its memories for a smaller apartment on the very edges of the middle levels.

He'd initially chosen the spot because anti-warrior build sentiments didn't run nearly as strongly so close to the lower levels, and he couldn't listen to the ignorant rumors surrounding Seekers anymore. Now that Skywarp and Thundercracker were branded Decepticons, the location served a second, more useful purpose.

Enforcers rarely patrolled here, and patriotism was often lacking, though few risked outright supporting the rebels. Even if his Seekers were careless enough to be seen, there was a chance his neighbors would just let it pass without reporting them.

Skyfire still worried about them. They were coming to Iacon, one of the most dangerous places they could possibly be. It would only take one mistake. With their Decepticon brands, they would be immediately imprisoned. Possibly even deactivated. Any Enforcer would relish the chance to take down a branded Decepticon in the very center of Iacon.

So, on their next visit, Skyfire sat them down to talk. The purple sigils on their wings stared at him, undeniable. He tried not to look at them. "It is too dangerous for you to be in Iacon anymore," he said quietly.

Skywarp faltered and stared at him with wide optics. The easy grin fell from his face, replaced by a blank mask. Even their wings, which had been twitching and shifting idly with their thoughts as always, completely stilled.

"We… understand if our presence makes you feel unsafe," Thundercracker said haltingly. He'd unconsciously shifted towards his trinemate so their wings brushed lightly against each other.

"What?" Skyfire asked. Why would they- oh. "No, that's not what I meant at all," he corrected. "With the brand, it's too dangerous for _you _two to come here, so close to the center of Iacon."

He could almost hear the tension draining out of their frame. Thundercracker smiled as he said, "We appreciate the concern, but we both already know the dangers." He shrugged. "We discussed the possibility before we took the brands and decided it was worth it."

"What if we were to meet somewhere outside of Iacon?" That could solve many of the problems without changing anything important. They could be safe then.

Thundercracker frowned, tapping his long claws against his leg with an audible clack. "How could we arrange that?" he asked, honestly curious.

"Wouldn't our com systems be capable of-"

"No," Thundercracker interrupted gently. "That would be even more dangerous. For all of us." His wings fluttered, displaying the insignia splashed across their length. "Our wings aren't the only things that are different now- our com signals have changed too. They'd be able to trace the message." He shrugged. "The identification program is one of the ways to tell us apart from the civvies. Or imposters"

Skyfire nodded, accepting the reason. It was more painful than he'd expected to consider, but… "Then it would be safest if you stayed away from Iacon altogether until something changes."

Thundercracker shook his head. "Not an option," he said resolutely. "Trine comes first- always. You might not be actual Trine, but you're pretty slagging close. And we never abandon our kin."

Skyfire stared at him in astonishment. They considered him kin? Near Trine? For a Seeker, that was simply… unimaginable. He glanced briefly at Skywarp to see his reaction to the declaration, but the Seeker just smiled uncharacteristically gently and gave a slight nod. Skyfire couldn't help but smile back at that. He hadn't realized they regarded him so highly… but that didn't change the facts. "The risks are still-"

Skywarp groaned, collapsing back against his seat noisily. "C'mon, 'Fire, trust us!" he said. "Nobody'll be able to see us coming in. I'll make sure of it! 'Sides, if we do get caught, then I'll just 'port us away again. It's easy!"

The tangled mass of worry in his chest seemed to loosen at that. They seemed reassuringly assured of their own safety, but Skyfire didn't know if it was justified confidence or arrogance that fed their easy conviction. "I don't want to be the reason you get captured," he finally confessed.

"You won't," Thundercracker said. "Even if, through some random act of chance, something goes wrong, it would be our fault. Not yours."

"If you're sure," he said slowly, still uncertain but unable to see a better option. There were so many ways this could go wrong, but at least they had a way to get out. No mech would plan for Skywarp's teleporting ability.

So, against his better judgment, he let himself be convinced. He hadn't really wanted to win that argument anyway, and it was so easy to let them have their way. It wasn't like they were careless either; the two were excruciatingly careful in Iacon. Skywarp began 'porting directly into Skyfire's flat which, although inconvenient, was far safer than arriving outside where they could be seen.

Even before the Rebellion gained traction, the Seekers had always visited him irregularly, and that didn't change now that they were Decepticons. They visited when they could, and they still discussed everything from changing politics to the annoying mecha they had to deal with. If the war was closer than it had been and the mechs new recruits instead of fellow workers, then it had little bearing on their visits.

Yet, much as Skyfire tried to ignore it, things changed. New weaponry bulked up their frames, and new scars appeared with them. Sometimes, the weldmarks were still fresh when they arrived on his doorstep, and they often looked tired—_haggard_, even. But they never mentioned the fighting, and Skyfire didn't force them. He could give them that much, at least.

It worked, for a while. Then Skywarp 'warped into the middle of Skyfire's living room with Thundercracker hanging off him, half his side blackened and bubbled from blaster fire. His legs nearly gave out, and he would have fallen if Skywarp hadn't been holding him up.

"Thundercracker?" Skyfire gasped, shooting up to help Skywarp support his trinemate. "What happened?"

"We got in a firefight that ended badly. TC got hit," Skywarp said shortly. He was outright shaking in exhaustion and coated in grime, though he didn't seem to be damaged.

They helped Thundercracker over to the couch, where he sank down with an audible sound of relief. Skyfire got his first good look at the damage while Skywarp fretted. The plating on Thundercracker's side was badly warped from heat, pressing in on his internals. No energon lines seemed to have been broken, meaning the damage was painful but not dangerous.

"Why hasn't this been fixed?" Skyfire asked. A good medic could repair it in only half a cycle.

Thundercracker shrugged, hissing slightly as the movement jarred the injury. "The medics are still tied up with more serious cases. This could wait."

Thundercracker's ruined side looked plenty serious to Skyfire, even if it wasn't critical damage. At the very least, Thundercracker should still be near the med-bay in case his condition changed. Before he could say anything, Skywarp piped up instead.

"The base is still super chaotic now," Skywarp explained. "It's always rough when a buncha warframes need to calm down again after a fight. I figured it'd be better for TC to hide out here for a few groons 'till everything settles down." He paused, looking almost nervous for a moment. "That's okay with you, right?"

"Of course," Skyfire said immediately, still staring at Thundercracker's damaged side. "How often does this happen?

Skywarp, who'd gone back to fussing over Thundercracker, made a distracted noise. "We're short on medics. Nothing we can do 'bout that. A lot of mecha know some of the basics, and that's usually enough."

Thundercracker finally seemed to get tired of Skywarp's hovering and pushed his hands away. "It's fine," he said, though he still let Skywarp press himself against his uninjured side. Then he turned back to Skyfire. "The medics will have time to fix it in the next couple orns or so, once the med-bay's less hectic."

Skyfire nodded and tried to look less anxious, but that didn't stop the heavy curl of dread from settling in his chest. He hadn't known the Decepticons were short on medics, or how bad the situation apparently was that Thundercracker was safer here than waiting in the med-bay. The injury might not be lethal, but it still needed to be treated. If the shot had been just a bit stronger or higher…Thundercracker might not have come back at all.

He fussed over them both for the next couple solar cycles, but there wasn't much he could do. Skywarp 'warped in and out as he dealt with responsibilities back on base, and Thundercracker stayed behind. He spent most of his time recharging, face pinched from pain. The damage didn't get worse, but it didn't get better either. Finally, Skywarp came to 'port Thundercracker to the med-bay for repairs, leaving Skyfire alone in his empty apartment. A full orn passed before Skywarp came back and let him know the repairs went well. He had a lot of time to think before then.

* * *

><p>--

Skyfire hadn't entered the Academy's Hall of Records since before the crash, but, the next orn, he found himself standing in its Central Atrium. It was a bright, clean building, home to the most extensive databanks on the planet. Most of the datastorage was focused on scientific pursuits, which was where Skyfire had normally visited. This time, though, Skyfire wandered further back into the Hall, where the less popular sections were stored.

Medical knowledge was hidden away in a narrow alcove. Skyfire had only entered this section once before, back when he and Starscream were preparing for their expedition. Any explorer leaving for an expedition had needed basic knowledge of first aid before they left, just in case. The datapads on Seekers were just where he remembered. It was one of the smallest sections, barely more than the frametype's basic schematics and coding information. If he wanted to accomplish anything, then he needed to know more.

So he passed by the Seeker datapads and moved deeper into the alcove. There were more complicated information there, meant for advanced students or qualified medics to use for research. Instead of frame-specific data, the datapads contained anything from specific discoveries to experimental treatment techniques.

All of it was thorough. Most of it was completely incomprehensible to anyone besides a fully qualified medic.

Looking at the daunting piles of information, Skyfire hesitated. It would be easy to turn around and leave. Go back to his apartment and ignore the impulse that had led him here. He wasn't a medic; he didn't have the spark or the coding for it, and he definitely didn't have the right education or resources. Pit, he wasn't even part of the war, not really.

But he could still see the poorly concealed pain on Thundercracker's face and the way his plating had blackened and twisted from heat, left untreated by overworked medics.

Thundercracker had declared him kin. That tie went both ways. If there was a chance he could help them, he had to take it. Even if he failed, he'd at least have wasted his time with something more worthwhile than the Council's experiments.

So he grabbed an armful of datapads almost at random and got started.

* * *

><p>--

Once upon a time, Skyfire had spent his free time developing dozens of ideas. He and Starscream had more than half a dozen experiments running at any time, some that needed tending every orn and others that lasted vorns without change. It had been a side effect of partnering with Starscream. He was always having new, exhilarating ideas and dedicating every spare klik to hammering them out, leaving Skyfire to maintain their older experiments until his partner's newest obsession faded.

There had never seemed to be enough time to watch over everything. He always had data to analyze and research to be done and experiments to conduct. Dozens of tiny variables to adjust and perfect.

Then Starscream was gone, and all that had disappeared, leaving Skyfire with far too much time and too little to fill it. No casual experiments developing in his lab or promising ideas. Nothing but empty silence.

So when he decided he would learn to heal, he finally had another project he could dedicate his entire spark to. Something he could be proud to work on and a true challenge to his intellect. He worked on it just as hard as he had his experiments, dedicating every spare klik to slowly piecing together what he needed to know.

The work was excruciatingly slow and tedious, especially at the beginning. The research journals were designed for advanced researchers and medics, not novices. He had to coax out every scrap of basic knowledge from among the medical jargon. It was cycles of work for very little gain and probably the most frustrating project he'd ever attempted. As a scientist, he was used to having physical proof of his progress, not just piles of discarded datapads and a small smattering of successful notes.

Slowly, as his knowledge base grew, his research grew exponentially easier and quicker, and he graduated from disjointed notes to real projects. Over time, he compiled full datapads detailing the most common types of battle injuries and, eventually, managed to fill in ways such damage could be identified and treated, even without a medic's specialized tools.

Once his research progressed far enough, he began developing his own experiments. That, at least, was more familiar territory. All medics learned their way around a mech's chassis long before they were allowed to see an actual patient. Of course, the medics-in-training would learn on spare parts, which Skyfire didn't have access to. Good thing he'd always been talented at improvisation.

He only needed to be able to observe how different systems and circuitry fit together. Truly, he didn't even need to take anything apart, at least not yet. And, well, it isn't altogether difficult to remove your own plating to reveal the circuitry beneath.

He was extraordinarily careful. The delicate weave of cabling that encircled other systems tears extremely easily, and he only needed to brush against a sensor cluster once to learn to carefully, carefully avoid touching the sensitive nodes again.

It was… fascinating to see the inner workings of his leg, if a bit frightening to be so profoundly exposed. That hands-on experience taught him how to identify the different cabling and intricate connections of his frame. It took a few decaorns, but he eventually grew comfortable enough to move past observation and begin actually adjusting the delicate wiring.

To his surprise, he was well suited for the task. Decavorns of experimentation had given him steady, precise hands, and fiddling with inner systems was not altogether different from tinkering with the delicate parts of a machine. It was still difficult and he made many mistakes, but nothing that couldn't be quickly fixed. Or, on the rare occasions he damaged something with no idea how to repair it, mended with a quick trip to a trained medic and an excuse. He tried to see his mistakes as a good learning experience on treating minor injuries.

Truthfully, the hardest part about teaching himself was the programming. Medical programs were a closely guarded secret, designed to grant borderline unlimited access through a mech's firewalls. The coding itself was a work of sophisticated beauty refined by generations of experts. They enabled a medic to perform a multitude of tasks necessary to work on major damage, including deactivating pain sensors and arresting the flow of fluids into a damaged part.

Skyfire knew the basics, but he had never been a talented programmer. He didn't have a prayer of duplicating them. Thankfully, he didn't need to. He didn't need the seamless integration or unbreakable authority that characterized a true medic's codes. All he needed was a basic, functioning tool—difficult, but possible.

As he worked on expanding his knowledge, he continued developing his fledgling programs. He hesitated to test them on his own frame—if he had messed up, as he almost certainly had, then he risked screwing up his own programming, and that wasn't near as easy to fix as minor damage.

So, when he was ready, he turned to the archives for a simulation that could test his programs. Real medics used such simulations to test new programming changes and to practice difficult procedures, particularly the sort of experimental researchers the Academy often employed. It didn't take long to find.

As expected, the first time he tried one of his own programs-one meant to turn off local pain sensors-the simulated 'mech's' programming managed to build up enough errors to completely crash its processer. He managed to find and correct the conflicting commands, only for the simulation to politely inform him that the program would put dangerous strain on a real mech's sensor net.

It took dozens of painstaking adjustments, but eventually he managed to work through the simulation successfully. Skyfire ran it through a dozen more times, just to be sure. Only then did he activate the pain-sensor deactivating program on himself, and he spent a tense few kliks waiting to see how his frame would react.

When nothing immediately went wrong, he opened a panel on his arm and pressed down on a sensor cluster. Nothing- no shot of pain or cascade of error messages. He almost laughed out loud in victory, before reminding himself he still needed to ensure the program would deactivate properly. He removed the program from his processer, and this time he only brushed lightly across a particularly sensitive section of wiring. The familiar, prickling sensation of almost-pain met his sensor net, and this time he didn't stop the exultant grin from forming.

He tested the rest of the programs over the next orn, waiting carefully to see if any side effects would show up. Aside from a slight ache in his processer from the foreign, unrefined programs, there were no unexpected problems.

So the next time he noticed Skywarp cradling a long dent along his arm, he offered to help fix it.

Skywarp paused for a moment at the unexpected request, but hesitantly offered his arm to the Shuttle for inspection. Skyfire didn't own the tools or knowledge to truly fix the injury, but he could at least soften the edges of the wound and repair some of the torn and dislocated wires underneath.

Both Skywarp and Thundercracker stared at him in curiosity and growing disbelief as he carefully opened up the damaged armor plating and started repairing the misaligned circuitry beneath. He paused for a moment while he took in the differences in the Seeker's circuitry, so much smaller than his own. The connections were still the same though, and his fingers found their correct placement easily.

When Skyfire replaced the paneling, Skywarp flexed his arm, optics dimming minutely as he ran an internal diagnostic on it. Presumably everything came back clear, because Skywarp only stared back at him in astonishment.

"How the Pit did you learn how to do that?" Skywarp asked, running his fingers along the partly repaired damage as if making sure it wasn't some sort of trick.

Skyfire fiddled with his energon cube, unexpectedly self-conscious at their intense interest. "It's a… project of mine I've been working on," he started. Thundercracker gave him a thoroughly unimpressed look, waiting for him to elaborate, so he did. He quietly outlined what he'd been working on over the past metacycles—the archives, programming, testing—though he left out how he'd experimented on himself as well. He didn't think the two would appreciate that risk.

They were silent when he finished.

"You did all that just 'cause of the situation with the medics?" Thundercracker asked, staring at him oddly. Skyfire nodded, and the Seeker shook his head slowly in disbelief. "Primus. Why did we ever think you were going to-" he trailed off, still staring.

"So how does it even work?" Skywarp asked. He'd abandoned prodding at his arm sometime during the conversation and was staring at the Shuttle in unabashed curiosity.

They spent the rest of the cycle discussing the intricate workings of their frames as Skyfire tried to explain the basics of what he'd painstakingly learned. Thundercracker and Skywarp only knew the bare basics of first aid—mainly how to recognize fluid spills and which energon lines were the most dangerous to have cut. At one point, Skyfire unlatched the armor of his own hand to show Skywarp how the intricate gears and components fit together and glided into smooth movement.

An orn later, Thundercracker cautiously approached him about a minor lag in the response of one of his cannons. It only took half a breem for Skyfire to trace the wiring in his weapons to the stripped ones along his shoulder, and it took even less for him to replace them. An easy fix.

Thundercracker inspected his arm, testing the repairs, before giving him a rare smile of gratitude. After that, they started coming to him for minor repairs when they could and, as he started gaining more experience, more major ones.

He got the chance to use his programs on them, though he rarely did so unless he was forced to. Without the proper programs, the medical datalink he used to activate the programs grated on both their processers. The edges never seemed to mesh quite right, and the brush of consciousness through the link was unsettling. Still, he was grateful he'd gotten them to work at all, particularly whenever they brought him the more difficult damage.

"The Decepticons don't have very good medics," Skywarp confessed one visit while Skyfire was carefully soldering torn energon and hydraulics pipes in his leg back together. He'd received a long gash in his armor during a minor skirmish. It had still been leaking sluggishly when he arrived at Skyfire's home.

"Not many joined up with us, and the ones that did…" His leg twitched under Skyfire's hands for a moment. "Creepy… Like they'd rather take you apart than put you back together again. _Not _the type of mech you want messing around with your internals."

Regardless, Skyfire was honored by the amount of trust that they showed in him. They willingly allowed him to handle the delicate internal circuitry, trusting that his repairs would hold during the strain of battles. Skyfire checked and double checked every repair he made, doing his best to live up to their trust.

~.*.~


	5. Repercussion

Tangled Destiny

Chapter 5: Repercussions

...

Something crashed inside his apartment, and Skyfire paused with his fingers on the keypad. He leaned close to the door, listening intently, but no other sounds leaked out. Ever so carefully, Skyfire finished inputting his passcode, and the door slid silently open.

The short entryway was dark and empty, but light bled from underneath the far door. Skyfire crept towards it. A low murmur of voices reached him, soft and indiscernible. One of them rose suddenly as if in an argument, and there was something familiar in the tone. Skyfire straightened as his half-formed suspicions vanished. He opened the door and stepped into the light.

"Good thing I didn't 'com the Enforcers about an intruder," Skyfire said loudly. Both Seekers jumped at the sound of his voice

"Skyfire?" Skywarp yelped, twisting around. His wing smacked into a nearby wall, and a grin lit up his face.

Thundercracker was more composed, but his smile was just as wide. "Sorry," he said, stepping closer. "Next time, we'll leave a sign on the door."

Shaking his head in exasperation, Skyfire walked forward to greet them properly, pulling them close in a brief embrace. Their frames were warm, humming with life. For once, neither Seeker had any damage, old or new. Only scars.

"It's been a while," Skyfire said as they separated. "It's good to see you. How's the shoulder holding up?"

Thundercracker had received a nasty burn across the joint before his last visit though, from the look of it, the plating had healed nicely. He kept smiling as he answered in the affirmative. While they exchanged pleasantries, Skywarp fidgeted beside them, contributing only the bare minimum. His wings flicked in restless circles, and he kept stealing glances at the door.

Finally, after a breem of watching him squirm, Skyfire asked him, "Is something wrong?"

Skywarp jumped guiltily. He gawped awkwardly for a klik then, rushing so the words tangled together, said, "I can't stay this time. Sorry. I found some wrecks on the city outskirts I wanted to map." He spared them a quick smile then ducked back into the empty center of the room, as if afraid they'd try to stop him. "You guys have fun!" And, with a familiar burst of purple and gentle energy pulse, he was gone.

Skyfire stared after him. "What was that?" he mumbled, mostly to himself. Thundercracker heard.

"We haven't received much free time to fly recently. Skywarp takes it hard," he explained, looking at the spot where his Trinemate had vanished.

Skyfire nodded. Seekers were more prone to sky-hunger than other air frames. Back… Before, Starscream had been the same. He'd get caught up in projects for orns, forgetting to fly or refuel properly, and would be unbearable until he fixed it. Even so, it was strange to see Thundercracker without a second pair of wings at his shoulder. He and Skywarp had been nigh inseparable after the death of their Trineleader. Skyfire set the thought aside. He'd missed both Seekers, though he'd enjoy speaking only to Thundercracker regardless.

"Sit," Skyfire said, gesturing at a couch behind them. "Tell me about what's changed since the last time you visited."

Thundercracker sat down beside him, ruffling his wings until they lay comfortingly along the material. "You might be disappointed. It's been mostly training, patrols, and waiting for the past couple decaorns-nothing remotely exciting."

"Tell me anyway."

* * *

><p>--

They only spoke for a handful of breems before Thundercracker suddenly stopped mid-sentence, an odd expression on his face. He glanced around the room, searching for something. Skyfire started to ask him what was going on, but Thundercracker gestured sharply for him to stay silent. Troubled, Skyfire obeyed. His com pinged with a request to open a link, which he immediately accepted. Thundercracker's voice filled his head.

:Something's off: he commed. He stood up, and Skyfire felt a scan prickle across his plating. Whatever Thundercracker found didn't seem to help, and the confused crease between his optics only deepened as he started pacing the room. :Can you feel it?:

:I don't-: Skyfire started to say, but then he heard something at the very edge of his hearing. A high-pitched electrical hum so soft that, even with his audios dialed up, it was barely audible. He turned around to face it, but there was only the blank expanse of a wall behind him. It was coming from outside. Strange.

He glanced back in time to see the exact moment Thundercracker heard it too. The confused expression disappeared, replaced by dawning realization. "Skyfire, move!" he shouted, starting towards him.

But, before he could do anything, the electrical hum turned into a roar. Agony split Skyfire's helm open. His sensor net fritzed violently, and Skyfire tumbled to the ground as he lost control over his limbs. Conscious thought abandoned him and, a moment later, he dropped thankfully into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>--

Skyfire onlined into a void.

Error messages rolled across his consciousness in alarming glyphs, but Skyfire couldn't focus on their scrolling forms. His sensor net was still unresponsive, and his thoughts wandered in listless, disjointed circles. Pain lurked beneath everything, muted but already threatening to flare up. He tried to remember what had happened. Couldn't. That probably should have upset him, but the thought faded from his mind as quickly as it had appeared.

His audios returned in a burst of static. The interference soon cleared, though the sound remained oddly muted. In the floating emptiness, the sharp sound of metal striking metal echoed, worsening the ache in his helm. Optics were next. They flickered on in stages, in bursts of light and hazes of color.

As his optics reset, the first unsettling traces of dread settled over his spark. Something… was wrong. Something important. He tried to move—to stand—but his frame didn't respond. Soon enough, he stopped trying. Blurs of color solidified into figures as his sight cleared, but his dazed processer still refused to focus.

Twin arcs of a Seeker's wings, rigidly straight and tense, spread out before him. They dipped and spun swiftly, and Skyfire had to force himself to look past their mesmerizing movement. A flicker of red, bright against the muted shades surrounding it, caught his optic. Skyfire stared, trying to remember why the shade sent up warning bells in his processer. Finally, the knowledge clicked into place, and the fog that had been smothering his thoughts evaporated.

The mech was a large Grounder. On his chest, the Autobot insignia was proudly displayed beside the symbol for the Iacon Enforcers. Thundercracker was trading blows with the blocky Enforcer. He moved much faster than his opponent, but the Seeker was still at a disadvantage. Bulky wings scraped and caught against the walls, and his lighter form was unable to match the brute force of his opponent. As Skyfire watched, the Enforcer lunged forward, trying to force Thundercracker off-balance by mass alone, but he deflected the blow and pivoted neatly, keeping his frame firmly between his opponent and Skyfire.

Thundercracker was protecting him.

The realization thundered through Skyfire's processer, finally banishing the last traces of the numbing fog. Pain immediately boiled up to fill the void, but his thoughts were clearer. Still oddly disjointed, but better. Skyfire moved to help him—or tried to at least. He didn't even make it off the ground.

At first, his limbs barely even twitched. The pain splitting his processer magnified, but he resent the commands again and again. Inch by inch, he forced his arms to move until he had them pressed against the ground. Then he pushed as hard as he could, forcing his shoulders off the ground.

It was a mistake.

Vertigo swamped his processer. The pain doubled, trebled, until his processer almost shut down again. He immediately crashed back to the floor, panting harshly. Something sparked, and Skyfire felt something in his helm pop. The bitter taste of rust filled the back of his throat.

Something was wrong with his head. Something was… The words escaped him, and his medical knowledge slipped away as he struggled to hold on. The energy pulse had done something, and he didn't know how to fix it. He could only lay there helplessly as he waited for the world to stop spinning. It didn't.

But he had to get up.

Thundercracker was still fighting, and Skyfire refused to give up.

He forced his optics back online. Colors seemed oddly dim, and any movement made his vision swim. After a moment, his sight settled. Gritting his teeth, Skyfire tried moving again. He pushed through the vertigo, even as his vision swam and his limbs jerked uncontrollably. Somehow, he made it upright. He swayed, nearly tipping over, but his back hit something solid first. The couch—it was still behind him, and he leaned against it gratefully.

He didn't even see the second Enforcer. Only heard the sound of a plasma rifle powering up behind his helm.

Skyfire jerked, but he didn't get far. He found himself staring down the visibly charged barrel of a long rifle. The Enforcer's systems were humming with charge, and the Autobot insignia spilled across his chest. His optics passed over his frame as if looking for something, and they darkened as they returned to his face.

"So you're the traitor," he hissed. There was disgust in the harsh twist of his expression. "Should've guessed it would be a flyer."

Skyfire heard Thundercracker yell his name as if from a distance, followed by a softer growl of frustration and the renewed sound of fighting. Skyfire didn't look away from the Enforcer in front of him.

"I never-" he started to say, but his vocalizer cut out in a whine of static. He tried again. "I'm not… Not a, a traitor."

The Enforcer snorted. "Course not. That's why you're sheltering 'Cons. Out of the kindness of your spark."

"We're-" he tried, but the Enforcer cut him off.

"Enough! I don't want to hear you excuses," he growled, brandishing the rifle. His sneer deepened. "I should save the higher ups the trouble and just get rid of you now." He scoffed. "Allying yourself with the Decepticons- too cowardly to take on the symbol."

Bracing himself, Skyfire lunged forward with some half-cocked idea of knocking the other mech's weapon away. The Enforcer easily sidestepped Skyfire's clumsy attack. Then his arm shot out, and the edge of the rifle slammed into Skyfire's helm. His head whipped backwards, and Skyfire crumpled back against the couch. His audios rang, and his vocalizer spit static. What little control he'd regained over his chassis vanished. He couldn't even get a twitch out of his frame, let alone muster up the energy to fight.

"Pathetic," the Enforcer muttered. His finger moved to the trigger.

Skyfire shuddered, but he didn't look away. He… didn't want to deactivate. Not like this. But he refused to give the Enforcer the satisfaction of seeing him beg. So he steeled his spark and met his gaze as evenly as he could.

Then he waited.

The moment stretched on. The weapon hung in Skyfire's vision, large and crackling with energy. The Enforcers finger remained on the trigger, but he didn't press down. Something that might have been indecision darkened his optics.

Skyfire never found out what the Enforcer would do. A furious shriek from behind them split the air, and the Grounder cursed and spun around. His weapon moved with him, but he didn't have time to fire before a whirlwind of enraged Seeker slammed into him. There was a sick crunch of metal on metal, and the Autobot let out a loud shriek of pain as the rifle was ripped out of his grip. It skittered across the floor in a bright spray of sparks, and the two mecha fell to the floor in a tangled mass of metal and armor. Purple plating, aching familiar, came out on top.

Stunned, Skyfire stared dumbly at the grappling mecha. He was still alive. Skywarp was here, and the Enforcer hadn't…

Metal screeched, and Skyfire shook himself out of the daze. The danger wasn't over yet. Skywarp tore into the Enforcer with wild abandon, shrieking threats and insults as he went. Surprise had given him the advantage, which he grimly maintained. His claws left long, dripping slashes in the Enforcer's plating, but he didn't have the strength to tear deeply into the reinforced armor. Already, the close combat grappling was wearing on him.

Skyfire's fists clenched and, for a moment, he wished desperately that he was strong enough to help. To do anything besides sit here helplessly and watch his friends fight.

Something glimmered at the edge of his vision. He turned. There, lying against the wall, was the rifle that Skywarp had torn from the Enforcer's arm. The barrel still sparked with residual charge. For a precious moment, Skyfire could only stare at the weapon in incomprehension. Then his logic center reasserted itself with a flurry of activity. In front of him, the fight continued unabated. Nobody was watching him.

The weapon was well out of his reach. His frame ached just thinking about moving again. Bracing himself against the wall, he did it anyway.

The worst of the pain, which had been reduced to a simmer, immediately resurfaced. Every inch was a struggle against the splitting pain in his processer and the numbness dragging at his limbs. He leaned heavily against the wall but, when his sensor net glitched, he nearly collapsed anyway.

Finally, his fingers touched the handle. It was still warm with charge and heavy in his hand. He managed to close his fist around the handle, but actually lifting the weapon was beyond his motor control. Eventually, with the end braced against the wall, he managed to leverage the barrel towards the fighting. He braced the back end against the wall, and the long barrel rested almost in his lap. He looked up, aiming the rifle towards the grappling mecha, and paused. The two mecha were tangled together so badly he could barely tell them apart. Firing now would be just as likely to harm Skywarp as the Autobot. So he watched, and he waited, and he tried to stop his fingers from trembling

Then Skywarp shouted in pain as the Enforcer managed to get ahold of his wing, twisting the delicate metal. The two finally came to a stop as he pinned the Seeker to the ground with a triumphant roar. Skyfire had a clear shot. Without thinking, his finger jerked on the trigger. It fired.

The recoil reignited the agony in his sensors, but the blast hit the Autobot dead center. It knocked him off of Skywarp and he crashed into the far wall, where he crumpled into an unmoving heap.

The rifle clattered to the ground, falling from suddenly slack fingers. Skyfire couldn't look away. Smoke curled up from the Enforcer's motionless frame, and a sharp stench drifted across the room. Burnt circuitry. Irrationally, Skyfire prayed the mech would stand up. Would twitch or groan-anything to prove he was still online.

He didn't.

"Skyfire?" Skywarp's face appeared in front of him. Skyfire hadn't even noticed him approaching. "What's wrong? What'd they do?

"Not sure," Skyfire admitted, voice hoarse. Then he pushed weakly at Skywarp's arm. "Go. Thundercracker…"

Skywarp glanced towards his Trinemate, and indecision warred on his face. "But you-"

"Go!"

With a soft whine, Skywarp went. He rejoined his Trinemate with a hoarse battle cry, and the clanging sounds intensified. They'd be alright. Two against one, the Seekers would be fine. Skyfire offlined his optics and leaned back against the wall. He was so tired… His frame ached miserably, and he just wanted to rest.

A loud, quickly silenced cry rose above the fighting. Then everything was silent, save for a quiet drip of energon hitting the floor. He heard footsteps then a thump as two frames kneeled beside him, and a pair of hands touched his shoulder. Skyfire barely twitched, even when the hand shook his plating.

"I don't know what's wrong!" Skywarp fretted. At the worry in his tone, Skyfire tried to online his optics, but they only flickered fitfully.

A third hand touched his helm, and Thundercracker spoke. "The Enforcers used some sort of disruptor before they broke down the door. Skyfire was closer to the source."

On his second try, Skyfire managed to force his optics online. "I'm fine," he croaked, staring blearily at them. "I just… just need some time."

Thundercracker—why was his frame so blurry, he was standing right there—was silent for a long moment. Then he turned to his Trinemate. "We need to get out of here. This place is going to be swarming with Enforcers soon."

Something warm dripped down Skyfire's neck. Energon. It wasn't his. He stared hard at it, and the blurry image cleared. Dents and small wounds littered Thundercracker's frame, and one arm was liberally streaked with energon. It still sluggishly leaked from a gaping slash across his bicep.

"You're hurt," Skyfire mumbled. He reached up. It took two tries for his hand to touch Thundercracker's plating.

Thundercracker took his hand and gently lowered it again. "I'm fine. It's just a scratch," he said. The reassuring tone didn't work, and Skyfire's fingers twitched, longing for his tools.

Then Thundercracker turned to his Trinemate. "Skywarp?"

Skywarp bit his lip and ran a critical eye over Skyfire's frame. "I don't know," he answered hesitantly. "'S a bad idea to 'port with damage, 'specially internal stuff. The stress... "

"The Enforcers are coming. We don't have a choice." Then Thundercracker leaned close, patting Skyfire's cheek until his optics focused on his face again. "Hey, Skyfire? 'Fire?" he said. "We need to teleport out of here. Are you ready?"

Skyfire nodded weakly. "I have to be, don't I?" He shifted, testing his motor control, and found it lacking. "I don't think I can stand," he said quietly, embarrassed by his lack of control.

Skywarp patted his arm. "That's fine. I can do this sitting down as easily as standing." He wrapped one arm around Skyfire's shoulder and grabbed Thundercracker with the other. "Just hold on. It'll all be over in a klik"

The world dissolved a purple haze, and Skyfire grit his teeth. The force of the warp pulled on his frame. He clung onto consciousness through sheer force of will, gritting his teeth through the pain and nausea. It only took a moment, but when they finally reappeared on solid ground, the two Seekers were the only thing keeping him upright.

Skyfire felt his sensor net fizzle oddly, heard Thundercracker's worried voice as if from a distance, and then unconsciousness took him once again.

~.*.~


	6. Fugitives

Tangled Destiny

Chapter Six: Fugitives

* * *

><p>Fluid dripped from the cracked ceiling, trickling across pitted metal and bare girders. A droplet hung suspended at the end of a broken metal beam, quivering, before gravity pulled it down into the spreading puddle. Skyfire watched its progression with dull optics. He had little else to do in the wreckage of the old building.<p>

His thoughts remained heavy in his processer, as if traveling through thick sludge, and his balance fared little better. He'd relearned how to stand, slowly and gracelessly, after cycles of excruciating practice, but anything requiring more dexterity was beyond him. Most of the time, he slept, and let the world blur past him.

When the familiar buzz of a teleport echoed through the room, he didn't even flinch anymore. Skywarp padded across the room and knelt down beside him.

"Hey, 'Fire. How ya feeling?" he asked.

"Tired."

Skywarp waited, but he didn't elaborate. The only sound was the soft drips of water echoing endlessly around them. Skywarp sighed and slid down next to him, pressed up against the grimy wall. Their wings brushed. Silence lingered between them, heavy with words unspoken.

Skyfire stared blankly out in front of them. He didn't even look at Skywarp when he spoke. "I can't stop thinking about it," he admitted. "It still… It doesn't seem real." Sometimes, it felt as if he were trapped inside a bad memory purge. Everything had seemed distant since the attack, from the pain that never truly faded to the heaviness in his limbs.

"That mech… The Enforcer…" Skyfire's voice broke. He swallowed heavily. "He was going to kill me. If you hadn't been there, he would've…" He trailed off, unable to speak past the blockage that seemed stuck in his throat. Betrayal hung heavy in his spark. For all that he'd sympathized with the Decepticon cause, he'd still trusted the Enforcers. He'd believed in the Iaconian justice system, and in the Council's platitudes about protecting its citizens.

He'd learned his lesson.

Skywarp cringed beside him, seeming almost to shrink under his guilt. "I'm sorry," he said, voice so low it was almost a whisper. "It's our fault."

He took a deep, shuddering breath and continued. "They came 'cause of us. If we'd just left you alone after enlisting or been more careful about visiting, then this never would have happened. You'd still have your apartment and your lab, and you wouldn't be hurt, and I-" His voice broke and, for a moment, his labored breaths were the only sound in the room. "I'm so slagging sorry."

Skyfire wanted to tell Skywarp it was alright. That he didn't blame them for what the Enforcers had done, or that he should have left Iacon for a more Neutral city long ago. The words stuck in his throat.

He couldn't comfort someone right now. He didn't have it in him, not when he was barely holding himself together anymore.

Yet, weak as he was, Skyfire couldn't completely ignore Skywarp's pain. He leaned closer, turning the faint brush of their wings into firm contact. Their arms brushed. Skywarp latched on with trembling fingers and, as the Seeker crumpled against him, Skyfire didn't pull away. That, at least, he could do.

* * *

><p>--

Something cool touched Skyfire's forehead, and he groaned. His processer reluctantly broke free from stasis, but his optics remained offline even as he pressed into the light contact. His helm was hot from his overclocked self-repair, and his processer ached fiercely.

Metal creaked beside him. Someone sighed. "He's not getting better," Skywarp said. The hand disappeared from Skyfire's frame. "I don't think self-repairs gonna cut it. Not like this."

Something shifted beside him, and Thundercracker's voice joined his Trinemate. "I know," he said, voice tight.

"We need a real medic. One that can fix whatever's slagged up in his processer."

"I slagging _know_, alright?" Metal groaned as Thundercracker stood, and footsteps crossed the room as he started to pace. "I'm doing everything I _can. _I've tried calling in favors and bribes and everything I can think of, but it's not working!"

At the distress in his tone, Skyfire finally onlined his optics. Several kliks passed before they focused enough for him to make out Thundercracker's form across the room. Skywarp still kneeled beside him, but his attention was on his Trinemate.

"TC…" Skywarp tried as he stood.

Thundercracker cut him off with a sharp shake of his head. "I'll figure something out," he promised. "I swear it." Then he turned and set off towards the partially collapsed doorway.

Skywarp jerked towards him. "Hey! Hey, wait, at least let me-" he shouted, but, before the words left his mouth, Thundercracker activated his thrusters and was gone. Skywarp stared after him then let his weight thump back to the ground.

Skyfire tried to sit up. "'Warp?" he asked. "What's going on?"

The Seeker jumped and twisted to face him. "Skyfire? You're- Careful!" he exclaimed as the Shuttle wobbled. Skywarp steadied him until his balance returned. Skyfire didn't look away from where Thundercracker had disappeared.

"Where's he going?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Skywarp said. His smile was strained even as he tried to be reassuring. "Don't worry. TC can take care of himself."

Skyfire nodded but remained unconvinced. At Skywarp's prompting, he rested his weight against the wall behind him. Unfortunately, he needed the support. Time and self-repair had helped, but, with damage like this, it could only do so much. Processer damage was always difficult to repair.

He'd barely woken up, but already his processer was starting to glitch again. He breathed deeply, hoping the vertigo would pass, but it didn't. Instead, it worsened, turning into true pain. He tried to keep the grimace from his face, but Skywarp noticed immediately. He touched Skyfire's shoulder, softly at first then harder.

"Hey. _Hey!_" Skywarp said, growing louder when Skyfire didn't acknowledge him. _"_What's wrong?"

Skyfire shook his head, wincing as the movement worsened the pain, and tried to brush Skywarp's worried hands aside. "It's not important. I'm fine," he said.

Skywarp huffed and scooted closer. "C'mon, 'Fire. Don't lie to me."

Skyfire wouldn't meet his eyes. His head pounded, but it was dread that blocked his throat. Skywarp waited for him to speak, patient yet undeniable.

"It's getting worse," Skyfire admitted quietly. He was recharging now more than ever, and the pain wasn't improving. It almost seemed to be worsening, even as his balance haltingly returned. Worry clawed at his spark whenever he allowed himself to think about the damage. He tried not to.

He swayed again, even with the solid metal wall against his back. He violently denied his processer's attempts to reinitiate stasis. He'd slept long enough and missed too much already. Yet, the demands of his frame couldn't be ignored. Against his will, his systems began shutting down.

Skywarp helped him lie down again. "Rest," he said while Skyfire's optics flickered. "We'll take care of you. Promise."

Skyfire frowned. He wanted to ask how—wanted to know what the Seekers were thinking and where they were going when they left. Whether they were safe. Despite his questions, his vocalizer refused to form the words. Soon enough, his processer's demands for recharge grew undeniable, and he sank back into oblivion.

* * *

><p>--

Another orn passed, though Skyfire barely remembered it. His memories of those cycles were blurred and faded, half corrupted from pain and unrepaired damage. Mostly, he remembered the Seekers. Red optics and blue or purple wings seemed to surround him during his few, blurred periods of consciousness.

Skyfire's next clear memory was of a small, closed room. His optics onlined at the slightest suggestion of a command, and Skyfire stared up at a clean, dry ceiling. He blinked, and his optics functioned seamlessly. The ceiling was colored a pale blue, which extended down the blank walls. He wasn't alone. Thundercracker sat in a small chair beside the berth. His head drooped, precariously balanced on one hand, and he seemed to be deeply asleep. Skyfire reached over to touch him, a dozen questions on his lips, and froze.

The pain was gone.

The unending ache had cleared. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Skyfire's thoughts were clear and easy. His processer wasn't weighed down by a numbing fog, nor crippled by the ceaseless pain. He sat up, and his limbs responded immediately. For a full breem, Skyfire offlined his optics and just basked in the sensation of finally feeling _whole _again.

Then, with fingers that had lost their tremble, he reached over and touched Thundercracker's shoulder. The Seeker jerked and nearly fell, catching himself at the last moment. His optics immediately found Skyfire's, and a brilliant, if tired, smile lit up his face.

"Hey," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," Skyfire answered, and was surprised to find it was true. He glanced around the room, noting a single, closed door and little else. "Where are we?"

"A small clinic in Crystal City," Thundercracker said. "I called in some favors. We're safe here."

Skyfire knew little about Crystal City. It was technically Autobot controlled, though far enough from the main conflict to be almost Neutral in practice. It was the perfect place to hide out and recover away from the war. Better than he'd ever dared hope of getting. Struck speechless, Skyfire reached over and pulled Thundercracker into a rough embrace, tight enough that the smaller Seeker's armor creaked.

"Thank you," he whispered, voice tight with emotion. "_Primus_, Thundercracker."

Thundercracker's breath hitched, and then he returned the embrace just as fiercely. "I'm just glad you're alright," he said.

Thundercracker's frame was a comforting weight against Skyfire's plating, warm and vibrant in a way so little had been for too long. Something drifted through the back of Skyfire's processer—a ghost of a memory, of white wings and harsh laughter and a frame that had fit so perfectly beside his own. Ice ached in his spark before Skyfire banished the memory fragment.

As he released Thundercracker, Skyfire's hand brushed lower against his side, and felt something oddly rough under his hand. Thundercracker flinched away. Immediately concerned, Skyfire pulled away and stared. Stark weld lines marked Thundercracker's side, red and raw.

"You're hurt!" he exclaimed. The damage had been skillfully repaired, but it had been deep. Dangerous. "What happened?"

Thundercracker shook his head. He shifted, hiding the damage from sight. "Nothing you have to worry about," he said. "I just had to take care of some things. It's finished now."

Suddenly, Skywarp's absence from the room seemed much more important. "Where's your Trinemate?" he asked. Worry clenched his fists against the berth.

"He's just delivering a package. Nothing dangerous."

"The same way that wasn't dangerous?" Skyfire asked, staring pointedly at Thundercracker's side.

Thundercracker didn't answer. Skyfire sighed.

"We're not really safe here, are we," he asked quietly. Disappointment curled in his spark, and Thundercracker flinched.

"We are right now," he said, with enough conviction that Skyfire believed it was the truth. Just not all of it.

"And for how much longer will that last?" Skyfire asked pointedly.

Guilt flickered across Thundercracker's face, and he glanced away. "Two orns. I could only buy us two orns," he admitted.

The confirmation hit Skyfire hard. Two orns. It seemed like so little time—barely enough for repairs to integrate, let alone figure out what to do next. The empty, private room took on new meaning, and Skyfire tensed, glancing around them nervously.

"I don't understand," he admitted. "We're halfway across the world! The Iacon Enforcers can't reach us here. Why would anyone here even care about what happened?

Thundercracker wouldn't meet his eyes. That was the first sign that something was truly wrong, even in this slagheap of a situation. He said, "The council publicized the hunt. Turned it into a big news spectacle soon as we escaped. It's not just Iacon anymore—Enforcers from every Autobot sympathizing city are looking for you." He paused, almost timid as he glanced up. "I'm sorry."

Skyfire was speechless. He sank back in the berth, looking away from the Seeker. His processer pounded, from stress instead of damage this time. When he raised his hand , it was shaking. Even as he clenched his fists and balled them in his lap, the tremors remained.

"Why?" Skyfire croaked. "I work for the Academy. I haven't even touched anything interesting in vorns. What kind of intel could I possibly have been passing on to the Decepticons that was so slagging important?"

"They needed a scapegoat. That's all. Those slaggers…" Thundercracker cut himself off before he said more, but fury burned unabated in his optics. More composed, he continued, "People are getting restless. The Council wanted something they could show off to prove they're still powerful."

Such a stupid reason. Juvenile, almost, like a youngling frantically hiding a mistake instead of fixing it. Yet, it meant Skyfire was essentially exiled, not only from Iacon but nearly every city on the Northern hemisphere.

"What now? Where do we go after this?" he asked, fearing the answer.

Instead, Thundercracker responded with another question. "What do you want?"

To go home. Back to his apartment and his labs and the comfort of his routine. His subspace held his most treasured possessions, a carryover from his vorns as an interstellar explorer, but his entire life had been in that apartment. He'd lost so much when the enforcers came and, in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to go back.

Of course, that was impossible.

Thundercracker, sensing the dark turn of his thoughts, leaned closer. "Tell me what you want, and I swear I'll make it happen. No matter what."

Staring into Thundercracker's shining optics, Skyfire believed him. Yet… "At what cost?" he murmured. Nothing was ever free. Especially not now. He wasn't oblivious. Thundercracker had bought them two orns, but he hadn't said what the currency was. Based on Thundercracker's injuries and Skywarp's conspicuous absence, he could guess.

He wanted… He wanted a lot. But he wouldn't put the other two in danger to get it.

Thundercracker sighed when Skyfire didn't continue. "Just… Think about it, alright?" he asked. "We have almost two orn to make a decision."

Skyfire nodded, though he had little intention of doing so. Sure, he'd try to figure out what to do next, but he wouldn't rely on the Seekers. Not when Thundercracker seemed so willing to martyr himself for it. There'd been enough pain and sacrifice already. He was thoroughly sick of it.

* * *

><p>--

Skyfire woke up when the door opened. He was on his side, face hidden from the door. Even as his optics flickered on, he stayed still and silent, listening carefully. Thundercracker shifted beside him, standing to greet the new arrival.

"You look terrible," he said. "You were supposed to return cycles ago. What happened?"

A chair scrapped against the ground, and someone's heavy frame thumped into it. Skywarp. "I kept running into the Enforcers. I had to take the stupid _tunnels _to get back here," he said. His voice was rough in exhaustion. He sighed. "I think they're tracking my 'ports."

A harsh intake of air met him, and Thundercracker cursed. "How?"

Metal rustled as Skywarp shrugged. "Dunno. But they kept showing up every time I teleported, no matter what I tried, until I started sneaking around instead." He groaned, scrubbing noisily at his face. "Probably something to do with the energy signature. I didn't exactly stick around to ask questions."

"Slag…"

Skywarp murmured his agreement. Then Skyfire felt the berth dip as the Seeker leaned against it. Something brushed against Skyfire's side, barely there and gone just as quickly. "How's he doing?" Skywarp asked. His voice had softened, which only made the exhaustion shine through stronger.

"Better," Thundercracker said. "He woke up while you were gone. He's still recovering, but he's coherent again."

"Good."

They lapsed into silence, which lasted for several long breems. With his optics offline, Skyfire couldn't read the Seekers well, but he could still feel the mounting tension in the air. Skywarp fidgeted beside him, smoothing his hands across the berth and twisting across the chair. Every so often, his fidgeting hand would brush against Skyfire's plating. Despite his Trinemate's distress, Thundercracker remained a quiet presence at the foot of Skyfire's berth. He didn't move or speak at all.

Skywarp broke first. "The slag are we gonna do, TC?" he asked. The chair creaked as he rocked his weight back, and Skyfire could almost see the worry on his face. "If I can't even port us around, then-"

"We have two orns to plan. We'll figure something out."

Skywarp scoffed. "Yeah? Like what?"

Silence.

Skywarp's fidgeting worsened. His vocalizer clicked without saying anything, as if the Seeker was fighting the words that wanted to come out. Finally, quietly, he said, "We can at least ask him."

"_No!_" Thundercracker hissed._ "_You know how he feels about the war. I'm not going to pressure him." His voice grew softer, regretful. "We've cost him enough."

Skywarp didn't back down. "We should at least give him all the info! He deserves that at least, right?" Thundercracker didn't answer, so Skywarp continued heatedly. "The Autobots will just get us killed. The Neutrals won't risk it for at least a vorn, and you know how the 'Cons feel about Civvies."

"I'll figure something out. There's always a way," Thundercracker said.

Finally, curiosity got the better of him. Skyfire sat up, turning to see the rest of the room. As he'd expected, Skywarp was sitting beside his berth, and Thundercracker stood above him. Both stared at him in shock as he moved.

"Ask me what?" Skyfire asked mildly.

The Seekers exchanged glances. Thundercracker grimaced and looked away, shooting an annoyed look at his Trinemate. Something resembling panic crossed Skywarp's face. He shifted, staring down at his hands, and his mouth opened and closed soundlessly. After a moment, Skyfire grew impatient.

"Skywarp…" he prompted. His gaze darted towards Thundercracker before returning to the other uncomfortable Seeker. "What are you two trying to-"

"Megatron's recruiting Medics," Skywarp blurted out. Then he froze, as if stunned by the words that had come from his own lips.

"What?" Skyfire breathed. Skywarp hunched lower in his seat, cringing as if expecting the Shuttle to lash out at him. Skyfire was too startled to react immediately. Slowly, still working past the incredulity in his processer, he said, "You can't _possibly _be suggesting I… I _enlist _as a Decepticon?" The words sounded ridiculous. He was a scientist, not a soldier.

Thundercracker touched his arm, rubbing the plating as if soothing a wild animal. "Skywarp's not suggesting anything. He's just… considering every possibility. We have other-"

Skywarp cut in. "Options? Not really. You're not helping by lying to him, TC," he said harshly. Then he turned back to Skyfire, only hesitating a moment before speaking. "Right now, Autobot territory is too dangerous, and even Neutral settlements will be dicey for a long time. It'll be vorns before the danger dies down. 'Till then, any mistake will be fatal. You're gonna need something to protect you, and we can't do it on our own. We're good, but we're not that good."

"I won't fight for him," Skyfire said coldly. He'd die first. A decaorn ago that would have been an empty statement. Not anymore. He still remembered the recoil of the blaster in his hand. The way the Enforcer had fallen.

"I know! That's not what I'm-" he cut himself off, rubbing at his face. Then he started again. "Medics are valuable, especially to the 'Cons. They've got few enough that are any good. Medics are protected; they don't get sent to the Frontlines." He paused then, earnestly, said, "They don't have to kill."

His wings fluttered nervously. Their tight, spiraling pattern worsened the longer Skyfire went without responding. "It's not that different than what you've been doing for us, right?" he pleaded. "You'd just need to repair people. We'd get to stay with you, and you'd be protected by the entire army. You just-"

"Skywarp," Thundercracker cut in, voice sharp but not unkind. "Shut up."

Thankfully, Skywarp did. He said nothing and continued to do so, though the effort of remaining silent wore on him. The Seeker wanted to talk—to explain himself or make things right, anything to fill the silence. Thundercracker's warning glances held him in check. No more words passed between them, not before Skyfire allowed himself to recharge and well into the next morning.

* * *

><p>--

The medic came in soon after he woke. He was a short Grounder. His plating was brittle and color faded from age and energon deprivation, and his vocalizer crackled when he spoke. He performed a perfunctory examination, accessed Skyfire's medical port, and was gone before a quarter cycle had passed. He stopped by Skywarp as he left, and they exchanged a few muffled words. Skywarp's face fell, but it was Thundercracker's expression that caught his optic. The other Seeker looked worried, and he glared at the medic with something suspiciously like anger.

When the medic turned back to the door, Skywarp followed. He only made it a step before hesitating, glancing back at Skyfire. Then he spun around and ran back to Skyfire's berth. Reaching up, he folded his arms as far around Skyfire's chest as he could reach, squeezing hard.

"I just don't want you to die," he mumbled into Skyfire's plating. "I'm sorry."

Then, with one last squeeze, he broke away, running after the medic again. Skyfire didn't even get the chance to respond before he was gone. Thundercracker said nothing. He avoided Skyfire's gaze. Out of guilt or worry, Skyfire couldn't tell. Unable to sit still any longer, Skyfire stood, meaning to wander around the medbay or, really, anywhere else, but he didn't get far. The door, which had slid closed after Skywarp, was locked.

"We're not allowed to leave," Thundercracker said. "Our host doesn't want to risk word getting out. He'd be deactivated for treason as well."

Skyfire's spark ran cold, and his hand flinched away from the keypad like it was coated in acid. "Ah," he said ineloquently and backed away. Pent-up, uneasy energy thrummed in his frame, worse now that he knew they were trapped. He paced instead, back and forth across the small floor until it seemed like he had every mechanoinch of the room memorized.

Cycles passed. Thundercracker left him alone with his thoughts, and Skyfire didn't strike up a conversation either. Skywarp didn't return before Thundercracker, exhausted, fell into an uneasy sleep on the berth. Then there was only the muted clack of his feet against the floor to fill the silence.

* * *

><p>--

Half an orn passed—a fourth of their allotted time. Nothing changed. Sometimes Thundercracker was there; sometimes Skywarp was. Rarely, he had them both back. They spoke occasionally—Thundercracker with his halfhearted suggestions, Skywarp with his apologies and arguments—but mostly it was silent. He had a lot of time to think. Too much.

* * *

><p>--

"I could leave," Skyfire said once. He spoke the words aloud, but nobody heard him. Thundercracker was gone, and Skywarp slept on the berth. He'd moved the Seeker there after the first nightcycle, when it became clear they would sleep on the floor or in the chair before leaving him alone.

The words seemed to echo in the air—a stray thought given form by a few twists of his vocalizer. He could leave Cybertron altogether, if he wanted. He'd made another energon converter long ago, and he knew the stars well. He'd survived it before.

But the thought soured as soon as he voiced it. Space was vast and dark and so, so empty. He couldn't tear the Seekers away from their war—wouldn't, even if he could guilt them into it. Cybertron belonged to them, to the slow burn of trust and easy laughter in an empty apartment and the harsh, inexorable touch of the War, but the rest of the galaxy had been for him and Starscream. He couldn't go back into that endless silence alone, nor could he stand traveling with a different Seeker, no matter how dear they'd become to him over the vorns.

Beside him, Skywarp was still sleeping. He always seemed young when he slept. Childish. He liked to sprawl, and his face was relaxed and open. Every so often, he would snuffle softly and nuzzle the berth. Leaning over, Skyfire gently lifted a stray limb back onto the berth. He let his palm linger against the warm plating for a moment before pulling away.

He didn't want to leave them. Never had. Not before the war, when their friendship was still new and strange, and especially not after enlistment, when every absence meant they were in danger.

Uneasy, Skyfire lay back down on the berth. By the time he drifted off again, his spark had settled into a steady, easy rhythm.

* * *

><p>--

Starscream wouldn't have run. He wouldn't have hidden. He'd been too bright for that. Too strong and far too proud. He would never have let his Trinemates go off to war without him in the first place. He certainly wouldn't have let them—let _anyone _risk themselves protecting him.

Intensely, overwhelmingly, Skyfire wished Starscream was there, berating him for his cowardice and debating their future together. But he wasn't. He never would be, and Skyfire had to face this crossroad alone.

* * *

><p>--

On the dawn after the first orn, Skyfire made his decision.

"Alright. I'll do it," he said. His vocalizer was sore from disuse, but the words came out loud and clear. He'd waited for both Seekers to be together. This was a conversation all three of them should be there for.

Instead of looking happy, Skywarp just seemed confused. "What?" he gasped, staring at him in astonishment. His wings froze, high and tense on his back.

"I _said _I'll do it! I'll enlist as a medic!" he repeated. At the declaration, a large lump of what felt like panic lodged in his throat. He swallowed, trying to clear it, but it only worsened.

Skywarp immediately stood. His steps were unsure, almost timid, as he approached. "Are you sure?" he asked, biting his lips.

"I'm sure," Skyfire said. He sounded much more confident than he felt.

Thundercracker glanced between them, expression sour. "You know you don't have to, right?" he asked.

Skyfire sighed. "Can you tell me, right here and now, another option half as good as this?" Skyfire asked. The words came slowly, weighed down by all the hopes and expectations he'd abandoned over the orn.

Thundercracker said nothing. Skyfire nodded, unsurprised. "Then I choose this." Better than sitting here, waiting, or trying to sneak his way back into Autobot cities. Even before the war, Iacon hadn't been kind to him in vorns. Not really. Nostalgia had kept him in the city, even after halfhearted friendships had been replaced by silence and suspicion. Even if he could hide, there was too much prejudice against Flyers, there or any Autobot city, to carve out a home.

Maybe now it was time to try something different.

Thundercracker still seemed uneasy. "You don't have to rush. We still have an orn left," he tried. "I… don't want you to do something you'll regret."

"I've made my decision. There's no point waiting any longer." Not when staying still seemed to be costing the Seekers. And, if he lingered, he was afraid he'd lose his courage.

Thundercracker was frowning, but he didn't argue. "Alright. We'll make it happen," he said. "We'll need a few cycles at base to make sure you're listed with us, but-"

"Can you do it now?"

Thundercracker hesitated. "I.. suppose. Are you-"

"Yes, I'm sure." Skyfire interrupted, already tired of the question.

Thundercracker looked at his Trinemete, and Skywarp nodded. Then the purple Seeker stood and followed Thundercracker to the door.

Skywarp paused before they left and smiled. "It'll be okay. You'll see."

And they were gone. Skyfire sank back heavily on the berth. Now that he was alone, he gave in, letting his wings tremble and burying his head in his hands. It was done. No going back. He was going to be a Decepticon. No—not a 'Con: a _medic. _That was a much safer word.

He'd made the right decision. He knew he had.

(Maybe if he said it enough, he'd actually believe it)

~.*.~


	7. Acclimation

Tangled Destiny

Chapter Seven: Acclimation

* * *

><p>Nobody noticed when Skyfire walked into the med-bay. Three mecha were already there, but they made more noise than a dozen. An an arguing duo on the other side of the med-bay seemed to fill the space. The first was an average-sized grounder with the bright glyphs of a medic engraved on dark red armor. His armor was tight to his frame with anger as he yelled and gestured dramatically. On the berth beside him sat a far larger, green and gray Tank with half of his leg disassembled on the berth beside him.<p>

The third mech was another medic, who was unobtrusively organizing some spare parts at a desk in the back. This mech was even smaller than the first medic and had a muted purple color scheme. Skyfire followed his movements for a few kliks, but he just continued working, completely nonplussed by the noise around him.

Eventually, the quiet mech noticed him standing awkwardly in the doorway. For a brief moment, Skyfire met his optics. Then the grounder calmly finished sorting the few parts left in front of him, set the entire box aside, and started to make his way over to where he was sitting.

"You must by Skyfire. I heard you were coming in today" he said. "My designation is Cadence, and the vocal mech to your left is Steelwire. He's in charge of this med-bay."

That was… rather disheartening. Steelwire, as he was called, looked like he was about half a breem from picking up one of the tools beside him and bludgeoning his patient over the head with it. Definitely not what he expected to see from a medic. It did fit with what he knew of the Decepticons though.

"Is he always, ah-" he trailed off, not quite willing to risk actually insulting the mech who would be his superior officer.

Cadence glanced over and shrugged, completely nonplussed by the display. "Yes," he said bluntly. "Steelwire has little tolerance for injuries caused by stupidity. I think that guy messed up the hydraulics on his legs by fighting with a Special Ops mech. Normally he wouldn't bother repairing it for a few more orns, but the mech has a mission soon."

Skyfire didn't know quite what to say to that, so he said nothing. Cadence didn't seem to mind. Motioning him forward, Cadence led him toward the back of the room, where a variety of equipment was stored. As they walked, Cadence started talking again. "You enlisted as a medic. What type of training have you had?"

"I haven't had any formal training as a medic," he admitted warily. "I… used to be a scientist in the Iacon Academy, and I taught myself what I could about medicine. I was able to create some rudimentary medical programs based on what I found."

Cadence made a thoughtful noise. "Let me see them," he said.

He opened up the medical dataport on his arm and unspooled a thin cable from it, holding the end up expectantly. Skyfire hesitated for a moment with his hand above his own dataport, but he did take the offered cable and plug it in. The link was unexpectedly professional, and he sent a copy of his programs over before quickly closing the link. Cadence stilled as he flicked through the codes, and Skyfire waited nervously for him to finish.

Cadence's optics gave a brief flicker when he was done. "Huh. Better'n I expected, honestly. You're pretty decent at coding. Did you notice any problems with them?"

Skyfire shook his head. "They're rather slow and can't break through firewalls, but they perform their function well enough."

Cadence made another thoughtful noise and opened his mouth to say something else, but then he paused, looking at something just outside Skyfire's field of vision. It took Skyfire a moment to realize the shouting on the other side of the room had stopped. By then, Steelwire was nearly beside them.

Steelwire looked him over disdainfully. "So you're the new mech," he said. "I'll be in charge of teaching you, so hopefully you're not too inept."

He turned away before Skyfire had a chance to respond, which was good considering he had no clue what to say to that, and looked at Cadence instead. Both medics stilled in the familiar movement of someone having a conversation over their 'coms.

Steelwire made a low grunt that might have been slightly approving, but it didn't last long. "Open your dataport," he ordered. "If I'm going to be teaching you then you better at least know the slagging basics first."

Skyfire really didn't want to give the mech access to his processor but, with Thundercracker's advice ringing in his audios, he reluctantly opened the medical dataport again. The medic plugged in without even asking permission, sent a large databurst across the link, and removed his cable as quickly as he'd entered.

"Study that until you know what the pit you're doing," he said and then, grumbling under his breath, turned around and made his way back to the damaged and furious tank. Skyfire watched him go and, with a short, clipped rebuke, sit back down next to his patient. That was… really not what he'd been expecting.

"You get used to him," Cadence said. "Worst he'll do is yell at you if you mess up or throw something if you really do something stupid. We're too useful to damage."

"And if you're not useful?" Skyfire asked.

Cadence tapped Skyfire's dataport. "Memorize those files, and you won't have to worry about it," he said. "Besides, he's not actually as violent as he seems. He knows that any damage he does to us or his patients he'll just have to repair later anyway."

Skyfire cautiously opened the file Steelwire had sent him. To his surprise, it was filled with dozens of schematics for different frametypes. It held groundframes and airframes, Tanks and Helicopters and several others of different sizes and builds. All of them were military frametypes. He opened up file for one of the frametypes to find that the schematics contained extensive notes about the build, and he marveled at the detail.

Another part of the file held a handful of long, elegant codes. It took him a while to understand the elegant script, but eventually he managed to find its function. They were official copies of medical programming. The one he was looking at was a sensor block, complete with all the advanced programming and overrides that characterized certified medical codes. If he had to guess, he'd say they originated in Iacon, though he didn't know how they would have managed to get ahold of certified Iacon programming.

The new programs fit easily into his processor sliding into place with an ease he hadn't felt in vorns. He resolved to experiment with them later to get a feel for how they'd be different from the ones he'd created. After checking the programs to make sure there were no problems with the transfer, he accessed one of the unfamiliar schematics and started analyzing how the grounder's frame differed from what he'd learned of airframes.

Over the next orns, he spent most of his time in the med-bay so he could both have his injuries kept under observation and learn how their med-bay was run. It was… enlightening, to say the least. And very much different from the medics and med-bays he was used to dealing with.

He'd already gotten a taste of Steelwire's style of healing, so his impatience and bluster with his patients didn't surprise him. What was surprising, however, was just how skilled the mech was. Steelwire was a far better medic than Skyfire had expected, considering how he'd first met the medic. He was quick and precise, particularly while welding, though he didn't have the patience for the more time-consuming repairs. He'd once asked Cadence whether Steelwire was Iacon-trained. Cadence just laughed. Steelwire was, apparently, from Kaon, and he had been a medic in one of the Gladiator pits before joining up with the revolt.

He'd expected Steelwire's hostility, but he hadn't anticipated Cadence's. To be sure, Cadence's sadistic streak was quieter and far less common, but it was there. Skyfire had first seen it after a patrol had gotten into a scuffle with a small group of Autobots. There were two injured in the med-bay, but Steelwire had been off-duty and Skyfire hadn't been cleared to work on patients yet. One of the mecha had been grazed with the edges of a high-powered energon blast that had left him with blistered armor and fused lines–exceptionally painful damage, but not dangerous. The other was in danger from rupturing a major energon line in his leg. Cadence was patching up the second.

The first mech had tried to pull Cadence away from his patient and force the medic to work on him instead. As soon as he grabbed him, Cadence had neatly sliced through the mech's main motor relay and tossed him, still screaming obscenities and pain-filled cries, onto one of the berth. Then he calmly got back to work, ignoring the increasingly hysterical yells.

He did eventually get around to adding the sensor block and repairing the mech. After he'd completely finished his teammate's repairs. While the mech was waiting, Skyfire had commed Cadence and tentatively offered to apply a sensor block to the mech, but he'd received a staunch denial from the medic. When the repairs were done and the med-bay clean and empty, Cadence pulled him aside.

"You're going to need to figure some things out if you want to survive as a medic here," he started, guiding Skyfire to a corner in the back of the room for some privacy.

"Being a medic for the 'Cons isn't like it is for what you're used to seeing," he started. His voice was surprisingly serious for the mech. "They won't listen to you or follow your orders if you don't make them. You need to prove to them that you can keep control of your med-bay and the patients in line, or they'll start pushing. We've got orders from above protecting us, but that doesn't mean anything if they think they can get away with it."

He sighed, leaning against the wall behind him. "Most of 'em will respect you, no matter how grudgingly, since they know just how important our function is and how unpleasant we can make their life be. But they'll still hate you and look down on you because, while they're out fighting and dying on the battlefield, we're safe inside. Relatively speaking, anyway."

The medic rapped lightly on Skyfire's armor, creating a loud clang and drawing his attention to the thick metal. "You've got it easier because of your size," he continued. "The grunts know how to respect physical strength, and you can always manhandle them a bit if they start acting up. They won't push as hard as they would have if you were a smaller mech."

Cadence stopped speaking and just looked at him. Skyfire looked away, unable to answer, and the medic left him to his thoughts. After a few moments, Cadence turned to a nearby datafile, occasionally muttering brief snatches of words as he worked. There was a lot for Skyfire to process—decisions he would have to make and churning thoughts he had to sort.

"I can't use your method," he admitted after a while. "I… my spark won't allow me to willingly harm another mech just to prove a point." He couldn't harm a patient like Cadence was suggesting, and that knowledge ran spark deep.

Cadence shrugged, surprising Skyfire with how easily he accepted the statement. "Then find your own way of getting their respect," he said. "Just don't let yourself get a reputation for being soft or easily manipulated, because you'll never lose it."

Skyfire nodded absentmindedly, troubled but unwilling to show it. He'd have to talk with Skywarp and Thundercracker as well, but he was starting to trust Cadence's advice. He wasn't a cruel mech, and Skyfire doubted the medic would be intentionally trying to mislead him. Which meant he most likely would end up having to fight a patient or somehow prove himself to them just so he could work.

His processor went back to the smooth, clean way Cadence had cut the unruly patient's motor controls. The mech had been quickly and easily disabled, and the damage wasn't painful in itself, just exceedingly unpleasant and disturbing to lose that kind of control over your frame. The repairs to the damage were a quick, easy fix as well. If he could learn how to do that, then maybe… He set the thought aside as something to look up and experiment with when he had the opportunity. Just in case.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Skyfire grunted as he was thrown off his feet and landed hard onto his back. Again. For a few kliks, he just laid there for a moment to recuperate as his waited for his equilibrium to return and the room to stop spinning around him. Even with the thick, interstellar travel-grade armor, his frame was starting to ache from the repeated force of the blows. The center of his chest in particular throbbed with each movement where the still sensitive Decepticon brand now sat.

The two Seekers hadn't wasted any time before starting to train him. The first thing Thundercracker had done after he was steady enough was to drag him to an empty practice range to teach him how to defend himself. He had new respect for the Seeker's fighting ability now. Skyfire had to be at least double Thundercracker's weight and half again as tall, yet he had managed to get him off-balance and flat on the floor at least a dozen times in the last cycle.

Skyfire turned his head towards the unmistakable sounds of a Seeker's footsteps, and his vision was taken up by the sight of two blue thrusters approaching his head. His gaze traveled upwards to the sight of an immaculate blue paintjob with barely a scratch on it.

"You're balance still needs work," Thundercracker said calmly. He reached one hand out to help him off the ground.

Skyfire gave him a self-depreciating smile and a nod. "And so does everything else," he said as he took the offered hand and slowly stood up. His sore frame protested the movement.

Thundecracker grimaced but didn't argue. It was true, after all. He was absolutely abysmal at fighting. He knew it. They knew it. He just… didn't have the spark to attack anyone with any real intent, which meant he couldn't even really use his greatest advantage, his size. Thundercracker was trying to help him and teach him half a dozen things about sparring: aggression, balance, how to read your opponent and block a strike, and so many other things. It… wasn't really working.

He wouldn't have felt quite so bad if Thundercracker was just fighting him with his normal fighting style. The Seeker was incredibly quick on his feet and had probably gotten a thousand chances to get a knife against his main energon lines. Instead, Thundercracker had decided to beat him by using his inherent strength against him and practically throwing him around the room in an unsuccessful attempt at improving his stance and balance. Pit, he hadn't even thought it was physically possible for the lightweight mech to throw him like he'd been doing.

Skyfire fell back into one of the basic stances—one of the few parts of it he could actually do—but this time, instead of getting into his own stance, Thundercracker shook his head and gestured for him to stand down.

"That's enough for now," he said.

Skyfire groaned in relief and finally relaxed, taking the time to stretch and massage his sore components. "How did you even get so good at hand to hand?" he asked. "I can't imagine you spend much time fighting or even training on the ground."

Starscream had always hated being trapped on the ground and, like most Seekers, had never bothered to learn that type of combat. Thundercracker wasn't an expert at hand to hand like some of the other 'Cons he'd occasionally seen sparing, but he was still good enough to hold his own.

Thundercracker just shrugged. "It's always a good idea to at least know the basics."

From his spot on the side of the room, Skywarp walked over. Thundercracker was his primary teacher, but Skywarp wasn't against occasionally joining it. Besides, he was rarely far from his wingmate if he could avoid it. The Seeker casually draped himself against his trinemate's back. "And Primus knows TC always prepares for _everything,_" he snickered.

Thundercracker shook his head at his wingmate's entrance, but a small smile still danced at the edges of his lips. "C'mon. Let's head to the shooting range for now. You're doing better with that." He took a few steps away, ignoring the squawk from Skywarp as the movement nearly sent him toppling over.

The suggestion actually managed to coax a smile from him. He was abysmal at sparing, but he was at least a decent shot. His hands were steady and his frame strong enough to handle the more dangerous weapons. While he would never call himself truly skilled, he was at least accurate enough not to embarrass himself when he practiced. Besides, the larger the blast radius of the attack, the less accuracy mattered, and the Decepticons had many, many large weapons.

The shooting range was only half a breem away from the sparring rinks, just long enough for his overheated systems to cool down to more natural temperatures and for the strain making his arms tremble to fade. Skywarp chattered lightly at them as they walked. He tuned out the purple Seeker's half-hearted complaints and cheerful stories, absentmindedly rubbing at the recently installed weapons mount on his shoulder. Even empty, the unaccustomed weight was still a constant reminder of its presence, particularly when he wasn't doing anything to distract himself.

From almost the moment he'd awoken, both Skywarp and Thundercracker had started insisting that he get more advanced weaponry as soon as possible. He'd agreed reluctantly, trusting the two's knowledge of the war, though he'd still refused several of their more elaborate suggestions as well as anything that would compromise the precision of his hands. The simple weapons mounts had been easy additions to get, though they were still incorporating into his frame. Eventually they would feel like just another part of him, but for now they still felt like an unwelcome parasite.

Once the programming settled, he would get a powerful, thin cannon added to the mount, one that was able to transform and be hidden under the rest of his armor. He already had a long-range rifle and a few other basic weapons in his sub-space, where he much preferred carrying the weapons.

When they arrived, the firing range was near empty. He took a section on the far end of the range and settled down into the familiar, repetitive motions of assembling, aiming, and firing.

~.*.~


	8. The Great War

Tangled Destiny

Chapter 8: The Great War

* * *

><p>…<p>

When Steelwire first cleared him to work on actual patients, Skyfire didn't have too much trouble controlling them initially. He was still technically under Steelwire's tutelage and protection, and the older medic had a very infamous reputation in the base. It helped that he made a point to stay out of the politics of the base, and, even without considering the size of his base form, it was well known that he had two Seekers willing to back him up in case he was attacked. Of course, that dubious protection wouldn't dissuade every mech he had to deal with, so Skyfire did his best to figure out how to keep control of the med-bay without relying on it.

There was an art to dealing with injured 'Cons. After enough time in the med-bay, he'd picked up a few of the different ways the med-bay functioned. He'd observed three distinct types of patients he had to deal with, and it paid to be able to tell which was which at a glance.

The first type he had to deal with was the hardest to control. They were the mecha with little respect for medics and non-combatants and often a rather severe case of overconfidence. It was simplest to just offline them, particularly when the injuries were severe enough to warrant being offline for their repair. When that wasn't an option, he had to improvise. They had to be dealt with strictly and efficiently, with short orders and clipped explanations of what to expect.

They were generally the larger, more experienced warriors—the frontliners and heavy-hitters. They were the most likely to try and fight him, but they also generally respected the size and strength of his frame, if nothing else. He quickly learned to ignore their threats and bluster—so long as he didn't deliberately antagonize them, the orders protecting medics generally kept him safe.

The second group was the easiest to repair. They were the younger 'Cons, still battle-hungry and bright with enthusiasm. It didn't take much to coax them into speaking to him, and they were always easier to deal with after they'd relaxed a bit and realized he wasn't about to scream at them and refuse to use any sensor blocks. There were some rather… interesting stories floating around regarding the medics there and the ways they would punish unruly patients. Skyfire was fairly certain that several of them weren't physically possible.

He rarely had to deal directly with the third type. They were the few 'Cons that were dangerous to have in the med-bay—the infiltrators and interrogators that had to be forced to get a scan and knew how to remove motor blocks and adjust their coding themselves. Steelwire was the only one who treated those patients, though the only reason he didn't delegate the task was because the rest of them weren't authorize to view the delicate information in their processers. Skyfire would occasionally be ordered to help them restrain a mech, which was dangerous in itself and had earned him more than a few of his own repairs, but his armor was thick enough to protect him from any severe damage.

On an average day, the 'Cons they treated didn't give them too much trouble. They knew how to deal with the maintenance checks and upgrades, and most had personal experience with the many different ways a medic could get their revenge. So long as he completely ignored any of their attempts at bribery or occasional subtle threats, the vast majority would leave him alone after they realized he wouldn't be any easier to persuade than the other two medics. He did occasionally have a mech that would go through with their threats, but Skyfire could deal with intimidation or minor sabotage. Anything that could cause lasting damage to his frame or med-bay was reported to the higher-ups and dealt with there, and the anything less was easier to ignore. Either way, it was rare for him to have serious trouble with another mech.

The real problems came on the rare occasions he had to perform emergency repairs on severely damaged mecha they hadn't had the time to put offline first. They were the 'Cons in pain and uncontrolled, liable to panic or struggle while they were being treated. With well-hidden, unreported weapons the norm, an out of control, armed mech could do a lot of damage before being restrained again. He'd had personal experience with that disaster.

At the time, he'd just been officially removed from Steelwire's tutelage. There had been a serious malfunction with one of the experimental weapons some of the frontliners were using, and two mecha had been damaged enough to need immediate treatment. Steelwire had been upgrading some new tactical programming into one of the Base's commanders, so Cadence was the only other medic in the room.

The mech he was treating was a helicopter with signs of rather severe heat damage. He'd automatically applied a sensor block while he accessed the mech's systems to check the damage. There was some minor damage to his armor and minor energon lines that needed patches, but the main problem was in the severe damage to the cooling system of his upper body, which could be fatal if left untreated. He had to remove some plating to reach the damaged lines beneath, and he started welding the small lines where he could and replacing then where he couldn't.

The mech was surprisingly docile as he was being fixed. He didn't curse him out or try fight or even squirm at the feel of his armor being removed or of Skyfire's fingers and tools inside his chest. Odd. Usually they started cursing or fidgeting almost as soon as he started. Skyfire made a note to check for processer or sensory damage later.

The unusual compliance allowed him focus almost exclusively on the damaged valves and lines, so the sharp blade of a knife suddenly pressing against his throat caught him completely off guard. Instinct had him knocking the blade away with one hand before could do any real damage, but he could feel a thin trickle of energon drip down his armor.

His other hand was still caught in the mech's internals, and he felt something give under his fingertips as the copter tried to dive away from him. He nearly fell off the berth before managing to get his legs under him and supporting his weight. Skyfire stood up slowly, setting the weak welding torch down out of the way as he moved.

The mech muttered something incoherently and swayed lightly on his feet—definitely processer damaged, then. His optics were dim and unfocused, and the knife was only loosely held in his hand. The tip of the blade drifted slowly through the air as the hand holding it trembled. Skyfire reached slowly towards him, hoping to coax the mech back onto the berth and knock him into stasis, but the movement caused the mech's optics to sharpen and focus on his frame. He charged.

The 'copter tried to knock him over, but Skyfire was able to keep his balance. He was more worried about the knife and whatever other weapons the mech still had. His frame was still slow and sluggish from the damage, but the copter was still a trained soldier. They knew how to cause damage.

Even with the handicap, Skyfire was barely able to keep up. What the mech lost in clumsiness and skill, he made up for in sheer intensity. Still, with his injuries, he wasn't able to keep it up for long. The helicopter stumbled as one of his hydraulics misfired, and Skyfire managed to pin the mech to his chest, arms locked to his side and knife safely out of reach from the more lightly armored portions of his frame.

He underestimated how much damage a determined frontliner could do, even through the thick armor covering his sides. The knife left shallow scratches in his plating as he struggled—thin, brief lines of pain that prickled over his sensor net. Then the mech stilled for a moment and his optics sharpened. Skyfire almost had his hand pinned before the copter burst into a far more determined movement, and Skyfire let out a shout as intense pain suddenly radiated up his side.

He twisted, optics instinctually going to where the spot of pain was strongest. Through luck or skill, the tip of the knife had somehow managed to get lodged through the seam of an armored plate just above his hip. The angle was bad enough and shallow enough that the damage was minimal, but the shock of it was enough to loosen the hold he had against the mech.

The coptor took advantage of the distraction, striking out at the joints of his legs and sending them both crashing to the floor with a well-placed kick. As they fell, the mech actually managed to get one hand around his neck, but he was weak enough he only managed to push lightly before Skyfire dislodged him.

They scrabbled on the ground in a chaotic tangle of limbs and metal before Skyfire managed to pin the other mech under his bulk. He could feel the unhealthy heat coming off of the mech in waves where their armor touched, and his side was yelling at him with every movement from the knife still lodged under the armor. The 'copter was still struggling against him, limbs scrabbling wildly against the floor and his plating and rotors twisting weakly, but Skyfire had his frame pinned down securely from the top of his chest.

He could see where the thick web of energon and hydraulic lines of his neck would be hidden under the thin plating. If he could cut off the signals through the hydraulic lines then the bot would lose access to his motor controls, but his fingers alone were too bulky to sever the connection without damaging the surrounding circuitry. He didn't have anything useful in his subspace, and he couldn't move to get anything he could use. He couldn't risk letting the frontliner get free again. The safest thing to do would be to wait for the heat damage to offline him, but letting the damage get that bad could cause permanent processer damage. Temporarily insane or not, the mech was still his patient.

He needed something to cut the connections. A laser scalpel would have been best, but his was halfway across the room along with almost all the rest of his tools. He just needed something sharp enough to make a smooth cut and, he realized, there was something designed just for that within reach. He shifted his weight to free one of his hands and reached behind him to feel for the handle of the knife still embedded in his plating.

The knife slid out with a powerful stab of pain as the blade sliced through more circuitry, but he got it out. With one smooth motion, he turned the handle to get a better grip and brought the blade up to the mech's pinned head. He knew exactly which wire clusters to cut to disconnect his motor control over his frame, and the mech immediately stilled underneath him. He stayed there for a few kliks longer to be sure he was done before standing up.

The 'copter just laid there limply, frame unmoving and optics blazing with an unfocused fury. Skyfire sighed and leaned down to pick the mech's frame up. He deposited the frame on the medical berth before opening up the helicopter's medical port and checking to make sure the sensor blocks were still in place. They were, but the link also informed him that his processer was suffering from a dangerous buildup of heat. The damage wasn't permanent, but it was enough to have scrambled his logic circuits. The mech had also managed to reopen the damage to his energon lines and was leaking sluggishly, but it looked like autorepair would close it up within half a breem.

After the stress-filled chaos of the past half-breem, Skyfire had completely forgotten about the other two mecha in the room with them. He almost jumped when he heard Cadence's voice fill the air.

"When you've got that moron back on the berth, can you hold this joint still for me?" Cadence asked nonchalantly. Skyfire turned at the sound of his voice and just stared at the mech for a moment in disbelief. Cadence was still sitting calmly beside the mech he was working on, blithely continuing with his work as if nothing had happened. As if their patients tried to deactivate them every orn.

"Is… there any reason you decided _not_ to help when my patient decided to attack me?" He decided he could safely ignore Cadence's request for help.

Cadence shrugged. "Eh. You needed to learn how to deal with the out of control ones by yourself sometime." He glanced over "I'll patch up that slice for you once we're done dealing with these two." He paused. "I'd keep the neck wound though. Show them you've managed to survive your first fight."

Skyfire stared at him speechlessly for a few moments, and then he inexplicably felt the urge to laugh. It was… ridiculous. A klik ago he'd been wrestling on the ground with a knife stuck in his side, and Cadence had just kept working like nothing had happened, and that their patients drawing a weapon and trying to deactivate them was completely normal. For all he knew, it _was _normal for the high-risk patients to try to deactivate them.

"Alright," he said, more to himself than anything. Then he leaned over to finish the repairs he'd started on the mech's hydraulic system, ignoring the way the movement pulled on the new damage to his side. His systems were finally starting to cycle down from their battle-high, and he could feel the tension leaking out of his frame. He was still online and relatively unhurt. He'd managed to survive his first physical fight with a patient. Right now, he still had the repairs he needed to focus on.

* * *

><p>…<p>

It didn't take long for Skyfire to realize that he'd enlisted during a brief respite between battles. There were still small skirmishes and in-fighting, of course, but the last large-scale battle had been before his enlistment. He took advantage of the much needed time to train himself as both a medic and fighter as much as he was able to, but he'd always known it couldn't last.

The respite lasted almost two full metacycles, but the order finally came for a full-out attack on a nearby Autobot outpost. He spent as much time as he could with Skywarp and Thundercracker, who were caught between anticipation and well-hidden unease. They were to be at the frontlines of the fighting—a place of honor for any flyer. It was also where the most fatalities took place, and Skyfire couldn't help the sick nervousness at the thought.

The rest of his time was spent in the med-bay. Everyone with decent medical knowledge was kept busy with seemingly unending last-minute maintenance checks and weaponry repairs. Skyfire also had to repair several casualties of infighting from the tense, expectant atmosphere of the base. The med-bay itself was restocked and cleaned with tools and parts laid out.

Without the fighters, it was far too silent in the near empty base, filled only with the medics, their assistants, and the few guards left behind. Skyfire busied himself with organizing and familiarizing himself yet again with his medical supplies and berth. He read over procedures and ran through his knowledge of war injuries and different schematics. He kept sneaking glances at the other mecha nearby, uncertain of what to expect and unwilling to ask.

The fighters returned with a bang. The roar of engines and heavy footsteps seemed deafeningly loud after the silence. He could already hear their exultant voices as they entered the base, and the uninjured mecha were starting to celebrate and relax in their post-battle euphoria.

Their arrival also brought with it the injured and dying. Inside the med-bay was an entirely different atmosphere. With the first casualty, it fell into an organized chaos with mecha scrambling around and barking orders. Outside the med-bay doors, assistants with small scraps of medical knowledge were in charge of organizing the casualties based on the severity of their injuries. Others would place those still online into stasis lock and carry the mecha in to be treated by the trained medics. It was an efficient system and saved much-needed time for the medics.

The first mech laid down in front of him was a frontliner missing nearly half of his frame and just barely still clinging to life. Skyfire got one look at him… and froze. He'd never seen a dying mech before. The mech was blessedly unconscious, but he was unnaturally still. Skyfire could see inside his frame to the mess of shattered struts and parts. Fluid dripped onto the berth in a continuous stream even as self-repair worked to stem the flow. Images of the schematics he'd memorized came to the front of his processer, and the damage took on names and technical terms. That was easier to deal with.

Skyfire stilled the trembles in his hand and got to work.

The next few cycles passed in an endless stream of the dead and dying. His hands were stained with energon and fluid that he didn't have the time to wipe off. He could only tie off broken lines and weld new metal on as quickly as he could. There was no time for even minor repairs. As soon as a patient was stabilized, he would be taken away and another would take his place.

That orn, Skyfire saw his first mech deactivate. The frontliner's chest was open as Skyfire frantically tried to stem the flow of fluid from the mech's primary fuel pump. Dim pulses of spark-light were just barely visible from between the tangled, leaking circuitry, and then they just… stopped. The systems under his hands slowly trickled to a stop and were silent. The med-bay was still chaotic around him, but all Skyfire could hear was the unnatural silence in front of him.

He kept staring at the unfamiliar mech, hands still twisted in his internals, until one of the assistants took him away and another, still living mech was placed in front of him. This one's legs were gone. Skyfire had to force his hands to unclench from the tool he'd been holding to pick up the next one. His thoughts felt muddled, almost surreal, so he just focused on repairing the mech on the table, and the next one, and the next. Two more mechs deactivated that cycle.

Eventually, the injuries in front of him grew less and less severe until it was only taking less than a breem before each mech was stabilized. Then the mech he was working on was taken away, and there was no one else put in front of him to repair. He stared blankly at the empty, energon stained berth. Around him, the shouts and clanging of the med-bay slowly quieted, and then stopped. He didn't look around. When a hand landed on his shoulder, Skyfire jerked.

It was Cadence. "Shift's over," he said. "All the critically damaged mecha are done. You'll be called back for the rest later." He turned, gesturing towards the back of the room. "There's a basic washrack over there for you to clean yourself up at."

He started to turn away, but glanced back with an odd look on his face. "It gets easier," he said gruffly. Then he was gone.

Skyfire stared after him for a few kliks then at the rest of the slowly-emptying med-bay. When it was almost empty, he finally heaved himself up, uncurled his clenching fingers from theclaws they'd been frozen into, and made his way slowly to the washracks. They were almost too small for him to fit, but he placed his hands under the single faucet.

The dried energon flaked off his armor easily, turning the cleanser a dark, muddled color. Some of the fluids had gotten into his transformation seams where the cleanser couldn't reach. He tried to scratch it out, but his fingers were too bulky to reach. He left the washracks.

As he walked back to his quarters, he could hear the faint sounds of the rest of the 'Cons still celebrating their victory. He wondered if Skywarp and Thundercracker were there with them, though he didn't com them. They hadn't been in the med-bay with the injured, and he didn't know what they usually did after a battle. He managed to reach his quarters without running into anyone.

His quarters were blessedly quiet and empty after the chaos and shouts of the med-bay. Even the sounds of the rest of the 'Cons were blocked by the metal walls. He was left with only echoes. And with the silence and inactivity came the memories. Skyfire didn't know how long he sat there alone with the images and sounds and feel clinging to his processer. Someone tried to reach his com link a few times, but he dismissed it without bothering to check who it was. Pounding footsteps occasionally made their way past his door, but he didn't pay any attention to them until one stopped in front of it.

"Skyfire? Hey, Skyfire, let us in."

Skywarp's voice. He had to be shouting fairly loudly to be audible through the door. Another com request pinged in his processer, but he ignored it. One of them pounded on the door. He debated letting them inside for a klik, but Skyfire really didn't want to speak with anyone right then so he ignored it.

"We know you're in there."

Thundercracker this time. Skyfire still didn't move. He did feel a little guilty about it though since Thundercracker's voice actually sounded a bit worried.

There was the sound of a light scuffle at the door then Skywarp said, "If you don't unlock it then I'm coming in anyway." A pause. "Ok. Keep away from the door."

There was a pop of displaced air, a short prickle of energy, and then Skywarp and Thundercracker were standing in front of him. Both of them stopped short as they got their first glimpse of him. Skyfire knew how he had to have looked—optics dull with exhaustion and sorrow, energon still crusted into the seams of his armor. He couldn't meet their optics.

Skywarp opened his mouth to say something, but Thundercracker silenced him with a light rap to his wingtips. Skyfire was grateful. He really didn't want to hear any placating reassurances or advice. Not even from them. It made him wonder how they'd dealt with their first time on the battlefield. He'd tried to avoid the war back in Iacon and hadn't thought about it since. He wished he'd asked them back them. He caught sight of movement out of the corners of his optics as the two slowly approached.

Thundercracker hesitated then lightly put a hand on his arm. "C'mon. Let's get the rest of your plating clean," he said quietly.

Skywarp gently took hold of his arm and 'ported them to one of the public washrooms in one familiar, disorienting motion. It was empty and far away from the rest of the 'Cons that he couldn't even hear the sound of their celebration. The only sounds were the soft patter of the cleanser and the occasional whir of gears or armor as the two Seekers moved. Neither spoke as they cleaned the last, ingrained smears of fluid from their plating with their smaller fingers and a spare brush Skywarp had found.

When they reached his hands, Skyfire was surprised by a sudden shock of pain that ran up his arm. He hadn't noticed it, but his fingers were dented and torn, the wiring frayed and broken from his shift in the med-bay. Some of the energon still caught in the grooves of his plating was his own. He hadn't even noticed it happen. Now that he had, he could feel the throb of the damage and the tiny pricks of pain as each drop of cleanser hit.

They finished scrubbing the dried fluid off of the rest of his plating, carefully avoiding the injuries as they did, then Skywarp brought them back to his quarters. Thundercracker took a standard med-kit out of his sub-space, gestured for him to sit down on the berth, and started the slow process of fixing the damage. His hands were steady as he replaced wires and realigned delicate components.

Their quiet presences were surprisingly comforting. He could hear the soft cycling of their vents and the low murmur of their systems working. The warm plating of their hands was more reassuring than he'd expected, and the pain slowly disappeared from his hands as Thundercracker worked

It was… better being clean. Even if he could still see the images. After a full breem, Thundercracker finished repairing his hands and the small med-kit disappeared again. Skyfire expected them to start talking to him then, to ask questions and give advice and a dozen other things he wasn't ready to hear. They didn't.

They sat with him silently for a while, one Seeker on both sides of his frame. Eventually, Thundercracker quietly broke the silence. "There's enough room for us to stay here tonight if you don't want to be alone," he said softly.

Thundercracker let the offer sit there for a while. They both just stayed next to him, unassuming and quietly present as Skyfire decided, his thoughts sluggish and disjointed inside his processer. Finally, he nodded. Their company… would be nice.

He could feel the two of them relax slightly against his side, their internals settling in to a deeper, slower rhythm. His own systems started cycling down to match them, and he only realized how tense his frame had been after it was gone. Both of them kept sneaking worried glances at him, which he offlined his optics to ignore.

He would talk to them later. In the morning, maybe, he'd let them tell him how they dealt with what they'd seen and how to survive the war with his spark still intact and stable. But right now, he thought he'd break if he heard anyone tell him how to get past what had happened and how to deal with it next time. Remind him that he would have to do that again and again and _again_ until the war finally ended. He would have to deal with it later, just—not now. Not yet.

That night, he offlined to the comforting, living sounds of two other mecha filling the room. It almost drove the memory purges of screams and energon splatters and fitfully flickering sparklight away. Almost.

* * *

><p>…<p>

The next morning, he had to force himself to take that first step into the med-bay. The other medics were already inside, punctuating the clatter and screech of metal with the occasional murmur of voices. It looked exactly the same as it had every other orn and nothing like it had during the aftermath. The tools and berth had been cleaned while he was off shift, but that didn't make the memories any easier to bear.

A scuff of metal on metal behind him reminded him that he was blocking the doorway, and he took his first step inside. His legs carried him across the room and over to his workstation. He sat down at his desk, offlining his optics and trying to relax. His processer tried to bring up memory files of the past orn, but he immediately shut down those processer strands before they could fully develop.

He tried to fill his processer with the normal sounds of Cadence and Steelwire preparing the med-bay instead—the clatter of tools and scuff of feet and brief snatches of conversation. After a few breems, the lighter, quieter footsteps made their way over to where he was sitting and stopped behind him. Skyfire didn't move.

A few kliks later, Cadence spoke. "We'll start getting the more minor injured in a breem or two," he said quietly. His foot scraped softly against the floor as he shifted. "They're all stable by now and have already had some treatment by the field medics if they needed it."

Skyfire didn't online his optics, but he nodded to let Cadence know he'd heard. The medic obligingly left him alone, and his footsteps made their way back over to his workstation. Skyfire just waited. He'd already seen that his work space was clean and his tools ordered. There was nothing else he needed to do until the patients came, so that's what he did. When the med-bay doors glided pen and the louder noise from the hall leaked in, he finally onlined his optics and stood up, turning so that he could see what he would be repairing.

He had work to do.

….

Skywarp and Thundercracker had made a habit of barging into the med-bay during the middle of his shift. Occasionally, they would even have a nearly legitimate reason for visiting him there—damage or errors minor enough for any half-trained field medic to fix that they came to him with instead. Skyfire didn't complain, unless he was dealing with another patient or in the middle of a project he needed his concentration for. Most of the time, med-bay shifts could get rather monotonous

This time, Skyfire was in the middle of a short break in his schedule, during the time he had to organize his workspace and restock supplies, when they came in. Skywarp was holding a rather badly dented arm with one hand, though it didn't seem to be bothering him all that much. He grinned cheerfully at Skyfire and waved with his good arm, already starting to chatter about their training session.

It wasn't until the two mecha came inside and settled by the medical berth that Skyfire noticed the third mech hesitating just outside the med-bay. He was another Seeker, though Skyfire didn't recognize him. He looked like any other flyer at the admittedly small outpost. The third Seeker lingered uncomfortably outside the door, neither coming inside to be repaired nor leaving the hallway. Just… standing there. Waiting.

Skywarp was showing him the worst of the dents, complaining about how some incompetent Trine had screwed up and flown into them while they were practicing maneuvers. Skyfire listened to his story as he started to fix the damage, nodding and agreeing in all the right places, but he kept glancing back at the open door. The unfamiliar mech still hadn't moved from his perch.

When Skywarp finished reenacting how Thundercracker had verbally torn them apart, Skyfire gestured at the door and the Seeker behind it and asked, "Who's that?"

Skywarp immediately lost the enthusiastic chatter, and his systems made an unhappy grumble. He glanced over briefly towards the doorway and his expression tightened, wings flaring minutely in irritation. "His designation's Stormrider," Skywarp said sullenly. "We're flying with him."

Skyfire almost dropped the tool he was holding in shock. "You're _flying _with him?" he said. That was… huge. Seekers _never _flew with another mech, particularly another Seeker, unless he was Trine or nearly so. Yet… they weren't acting the way they should've with something like this—like it was a secret or they were ashamed instead of happy. They both grimaced with matching expressions of disgust at the statement. Another sign that something wasn't right.

Skywarp's wings flared out angrily as he spoke. "Only 'cause we have to. Our Commander's a slagger who doesn't understand fragging anything about Seekers," he grumbled.

From what Skyfire knew, that was an understatement. Trines were practically sacred to Seekers and for good reason—it was a type of_ spark bond_. Seekers only flew with one another when they were either Trine, spark-bonded outside their Trine, or in the final stages of courting. Having a temporary, unbonded wingmate made a mockery of that. It was hard to believe that anyone who had regular contact with Seekers would have thought that to be a good idea.

"The tactics are all designed for full Trines," Thundercracker continued, answering his unasked question. "He decided it was more efficient to assign us another Seeker than adjust the strategies." It went unspoken that their Commander would have had to threaten them with insubordination and extensive brig time before they had backed down and resentfully accepted the replacement.

"What about the rest of his Trine?" There was no way they had deactivated as well. No one could survive the deactivation of both his wingmates. The shock of losing two spark bonds at once would deactivate him as well.

Thundercracker glanced over at the doorway for a moment and voiced a nondescript nose. "His real Trinemates are useless in the air. They got pushed to the back, where they can't do any damage."

Skywarp snorted and flicked his wings dismissively. Then he turned away from them and idly unlatched the outer parts of one of the cannons on his arm. A cleaning cloth appeared from his sub-space, and he started to wipe the weapon down. His still restlessly twitching wings were the only sign he was still listening to them.

Skyfire turned to Thundercracker instead, letting the other Seeker escape from the conversation. He was still curious about the mech they trained with, even if he wasn't a true wingmate. "So he's a talented flyer then?"

Thundercracker shifted uncomfortably. "He's decent, I guess. Better than most of them," he admitted grudgingly. "But he's slow. He talks too much during missions and complains about orders, and he _never _gets the angle right. He's just-" _not Starscream. _Thundercracker stopped himself and looked away uncomfortably, but Skyfire filled in what he was about to say regardless.

Skywarp looked up from where he had some parts strewn on the berth in front of him. "Don't bother trying to get to know him. He's not going to stay," he said quietly before turning his attention back to his disassembled weapon. He absentmindedly continued speaking. "Stormrider's the third one we've had, and he won't be the last either. They didn't bother sending the last one with us when we were transferred here, and the one before that was too clumsy and got himself deactivated."

Skyfire looked between the two of them. Unbidden, a slight feeling of hurt welled up in his spark. "Why didn't you tell me about them?"

The two glanced at each other and shrugged. "It just… didn't seem important," Skywarp offered.

Maybe the change in who they were forced to fly with wasn't important to them, but the orders to fly with another Seeker certainly had been. Skywarp could rant for cycles about the stupidity of the Seekers flying under them or the decisions of the mecha above him. Something like being forced to learn to fly with a stranger would have rightfully fueled him for stellar cycles.

He sighed as another thought occurred to him. It had probably started back when he was still neutral, before the Seekers had been comfortable talking to him about their part in the war. He wished they would have come to him even then with something like that, but he couldn't blame them for keeping silent. Even if there was a small, ignored part of his spark that almost wanted to.

The two Seekers shifted, optics flashing and focused on something inside their processer. "We have another patrol coming up in a few breems," Thundercracker said. He hesitated, then brushed a hand against his shoulder. "We'll see you after shift."

Skyfire watched them go. The other Seeker—Stormrider—fell into step with them as they walked past. Skywarp and Thundercracker barely even glanced at him as he joined them. As they walked, Stormrider was slightly out of step, slightly too far away from the other two. It was barely noticeable, but to any Seeker the slight division would be more than enough to know they weren't true Trine.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Inside the base, sequestered from the cities and politics of Cybertron, the war seemed unchanging. Skyfire followed orders, repaired mecha when they were injured or dying, and trained when he could. He would fly when he had the chance, but that rarely happened. Odd as it was, life fell into a routine. The war was a constant presence and pressure, but their small section of it seemed almost disconnected from the movement of troops and the give and take off territory or resources.

As time passed and little changed, Skyfire got used to his position and responsibilities—to working with Steelwire and Cadence and having a Commanding Officer that enforced the orders protecting medics and left them alone to do their job. He was almost able to forget what being a soldier, not just a medic, meant.

He'd been a Decepticon for several vorns on the orn his life changed again. When he reached his workspace, it was empty for the first time since his arrival. The minor projects he'd been working on were gone, and the tools sized specifically for his frametype were lined up neatly at the edge of his desk instead of being organized across his area. He looked at the rest of the med-bay. Everything else was placed as usual, but both Cadence and Steelwire were watching him blatantly. Neither of them looked happy.

"What's going on?" he asked, aiming his question at Cadence.

Steelwire was the one who answered. "Your Seekers got themselves promoted to a new base closer to the main action, and you're going with them." He snapped the laser scalpel he'd been holding down on the berth with a loud snap.

"I… what?"

Steelwire spared him a sharp glare. "You're leaving within the next few cycles. I suggest you get ready."

Skyfire looked between them, still trying to make sense of what was happening. He was… being transferred? When had… _why…_ It… didn't make sense. He'd been stationed there for so long it seemed impossible that he could just leave so abruptly. The proof was there, in the tools laid out so neatly and waiting to be picked up. Still reeling, he reached over and placed them carefully in his subspace. Then he just stood there, staring blankly at the now-empty desk.

After a few kliks of stillness, Steelwire snapped at him. "_Go_."

The order managed to snap him back to awareness. He uncurled his hand from where it was clenched on the surface and forced his legs to move. He was almost out the door when Cadence called out to him.

"Hey, Skyfire?" he started. Skyfire paused, looking back over his shoulder at the other mech. Cadence wasn't looking at him, but his hands were motionless in front of him and his optics facing an empty berth.

"Try not to get yourself killed out there."

Skyfire murmured some sort of assent, though he couldn't remember exactly what it was later. The med-bay doors closed behind him with a familiar, final sound, and Skyfire wandered back to his quarters in a daze.

For how long he'd spent living in the small room, there was depressingly little that belonged to him. He gathered up the datapads he'd collected and the holocubes of images he'd created to replace what he'd lost. A few other odds and ends went into his subspace as well, and when he was done the room seemed strangely empty. Like just any other quarters in the building instead of a place he'd spent vorns in. He tried to contact Skywarp or Thundercracker, but neither of them answered. Feeling more than a bit lost, he sat down on the berth and waited for the orders that would tell him what to expect, processer still spinning with thoughts of what was happening. He didn't have to wait long. When his processer pinged with a request from Skywarp, and he accepted it automatically. Before Skywarp could speak, he cut in.

::We're leaving?:: he asked.

A moment of surprised silence filled the connection ::I… yeah. Slag, we just got out of the briefing about it:: Skywarp sounded off-balance, though not nearly as much as Skyfire felt. ::Apparently someone semi-important at one of the bigger bases just got themselves deactivated, and TC got promoted to fill it. We have about a megacycle before the transport ship leaves::

::So soon?:: It was even closer than he'd thought

There was a slight crackle of static over the line, the transmitted equivalent of a sigh. ::Orders. Nothing we can do about it. TC and I are heading to our quarters right now to pick up our stuff. The ship will be outside the main storage area::

They ended the call soon after with a few short, unimportant exchanges. Skyfire looked around his room one last time, but it held nothing else for him. He had no reason not to head to where he would leave, even if he would arrive early. There was nobody else he knew well enough to speak to before he left. Aside from Cadence or Steelwire, he hadn't interacted much with anyone other than the Seekers.

When he arrived, a few low ranked Decepticons were already loading a small transport ship with sealed cases. Skyfire sat off to the side as he waited and watched the mecha as they went about their work. About half a megacycle passed in silence before Thundercracker and Skywarp made their way outside. Both of them looked slightly harried and their armor was tight with stress, but neither looked surprised or even particularly upset about the sudden reassignment.

They headed straight for him and settled down by his side, still locked in conversation complaining over being ordered to ride in the small ship instead of flying over themselves. Apparently, security had deemed it an unnecessary breach of protocol. They didn't have to wait much longer before Thundercracker received a short com from the mech in charge letting them know it was time to leave.

The transport ship was small, meant for only a small crew and resources they carried back and forth. Skyfire had to stoop to fit inside the doorway, and the size of the cockpit meant that the three of them had to sit in the cargo hold with the shipment. It was big enough for them, though just barely. Skywarp, of course, immediately started poking around the packages, though he was smart enough to leave the locked ones sealed. As the rumble of the engines powering up made the ship vibrate around them, Skyfire leaned against the wall of the hold and settled in for the long flight.

* * *

><p>…<p>

The first thing he noticed about the new base was its size. It was enormous—far larger than the one they'd left. Better defended too. They'd had to stop for a few checkpoints as they approached, and Skyfire had felt the prickle of a powerful, long-distance scan wash over them. They landed in one of the landing fields just outside the main building, and around them were more mecha than Skyfire had seen since leaving Iacon. Groundframes were scattered around the field unpacking other shuttles and ships, both sparked and not. Farther out, he could see rows of soldiers training and airframes above them twisting through the air as they practiced maneuvers.

He didn't have much time to stare. The three of them were quickly hustled out of the small transport ship and into the main structure, where a few relatively high ranked Decepticons waited for them. Two of them were airframes, and Skywarp and Thundercracker immediately went towards them. They started conversing together in low tones, and Skyfire respectfully left them to their conversation. He had a decently high clearance level due to his connection to the two Seekers, but there was still plenty of information he was too low-ranked to know. It didn't bother him. Thundercracker would tell him anything that would affect him personally later.

Farther away stood another mech, this one with the markings for an assistant to the med-bays on his plating. He was a grounder with a normal vehicle alt mode and decently powerful weaponry added to his frame. After the Seekers left, the grounder made his way over and stopped in front of him.

"Are you Skyfire?" he asked.

"I am," he agreed simply.

The mech made an acknowledging sound as his optics passed over him in a quick evaluation. "I'll guide you to the med-bay so you can arrange your tools. You'll get the instructions to your quarters later."

Skyfire nodded, and the mech turned away and started making his way past the other Decepticons and stacks of packages crowding the room. Before he left, Skyfire sent a short message to Thundercracker letting him know where he was going. As they walked, the grounder transmitted a basic file to him detailing the layout of the building, complete with several areas clearly marked as off-limits, and the basic rules for new arrivals. Skyfire flipped briefly through the instructions and filed it away for a more detailed perusal later. Apparently, the outpost was located near Iacon, so many of the rules focused on the procedures in case of different kinds of attacks or sabotage.

They turned through several different hallways, passing by a few storage rooms and a commons area. The hallways were bigger than he was used to, and wide enough he didn't have to worry about having to push past another mech. As soon as they arrived at the med-bay, the other mech left with an order for him to speak to the mech in charge inside.

The med-bay doors opened at his approach, and Skyfire got his first look at the new place he'd be working. He could see a full dozen mecha with the markings of a medic coloring their plating and more were wandering around the room with the marks for apprentices or simple assistants. A few of the mecha had patients spread out on their berths in various states of repairs.

Skyfire steeled himself to enter. This was no worse than his first arrival—better, in fact, because this time he was both a pre-established Decepticon and a trained medic instead of a neutral unknown. The head medic stood near the middle of the room, marked by the adornments of his rank. Skyfire made his way over towards him, and he ignored the way optics from around the room followed him.

He could do this.

~.*.~

**Story Relevant AN**: So… I kinda messed a plot point up. It's nothing big, but I felt like I should at least mention it. Do you remember the glitches Skyfire was having way back in ch. three? Yeah. They're still important. I'll be mentioning them next chapter and they're going to be part of a rather large plot point in not too long. Looking back, I should have had a couple more scenes sprinkled in or at least mentioned them a few times. I just… didn't think about it. I'm still new at writing actual, long, quasi-complicated plots.

In other news, this _is_ the last we'll see of the OC's. I'm kinda going to miss them, actually. Also, at what point did my average word count apparently decide to double?


	9. Final Days

Tangled Destiny

Chapter 9: Final Days

* * *

><p>…<p>

Iacon was burning. On the horizon, the night sky was glowing in deep, bloody reds and oranges where the city had stood.

From outside his room, Skyfire could hear the overcharged shouts and revelry of the 'Cons through the metal as they celebrated their victory. And it was a victory—one of the largest, most decisive ones of the entire war. Iacon had been the center of the Autobots, one of their largest strongholds, and now it was gone. The almost vorn long siege and fighting had finally ended in their favor.

He'd been off shift when the call came out on every communications channel he knew of; the fighting was done, and the remaining Autobots had fled the city. It had seemed impossible. Iacon had been the capital of Cybertron and the stronghold of the Autobots. More than that, it had been his home for most of his life. And it had fallen.

He knew what would happen to the city. The Decepticons would gut it of any resource they could use and destroy what they could not. Logically, it made sense. They couldn't risk leaving the Autobots anything to come back to, and, even before the war, the lower classes had seen Iacon as a symbol of the wealth and corruption of the upper class, and not without reason. It was only logical that they'd want to see it in ruins. He… couldn't celebrate it. Even if it hadn't been Iacon, he couldn't celebrate the destruction of an entire city. No matter how much of a victory it was for the faction.

This… wasn't solving anything. Destroying Iacon, fighting each new battle... nothing was changing. Vos was gone. Kaon. Praxus. Cybertron was crumbling to pieces around them. They'd lost so much off their population already, and the war showed no signs of stopping. The Council was already gone. The last of the original Councilmembers had been hunted down and deactivated to the frenzied cheers of the mecha. Even Sentinel Prime himself was long, long deactivated. They'd finally, irrevocably, destroyed the old regime, and nothing at all had changed.

Skyfire wanted… he didn't know what he wanted anymore, but it wasn't this. Autobots attacked and destroyed Vos. Decepticons razed Praxus in return. Dozens of the smaller towns and cities were just gone, either abandoned or destroyed altogether. He wanted both sides to realize that they were driving themselves to extinction and Cybertron to ruin. Wanted them to at least stop celebrating each new tragedy

The destruction of the city had been filmed and transmitted to the entire Decepticon army. The holo-vids had been viewed real-time to the small squadrons and other personnel that had stayed behind. He could have avoided the scene, but he'd gone. He'd had to. It had felt like someone, at least, needed to witness it that would mourn the loss.

He'd left after he recognized a glimpse of the Academy, gutted and burning and starting to collapse in on itself. A gleeful shout had gone up from some of the mecha that had recognized the famous building, and they'd cheered the destruction of the prominent symbol of the upper classes. Skyfire could only remember the hundreds of vorns he'd spent training there and working for them—how many thousands of discoveries had been made there and the immeasurable knowledge it had held. Gone. He'd left after that, having witnessed all he could bear.

He was alone. Thundercracker was in the med-bay, Skywarp next to him. Thundercracker had taken a bad hit during the final attack, though not critical. Skywarp had waited outside the med-bay with minor damage until the medics were finished working and visitors allowed, and he had refused to leave his side after.

Skyfire lay back against the padding of the berth behind him and systematically started blocking off the feed from his sensor net. Blocking out the dark, empty room. The sound of revelry. The reminders of their destroyed world. He didn't stop until he was alone in the colorless, soundless void of his mind. Even then, the memories didn't stop.

And outside, Iacon burned.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Even with Iacon gone and so much of Cybertron destroyed, the war continued on. The Autobots hadn't been broken by the annihilation of their Capital—if anything, they seemed to be fighting even more stubbornly against them after the loss of the entire city. With the Council completely deactivated, command had fallen entirely to the new Prime that had been chosen after Sentinel Prime's death. Skyfire had heard little about him, save that he was a very proficient fighter and had put together a competent command staff soon after gaining his new position.

Rumor had it that the new Prime had tried to arrange peace talks, but Sentinel Prime had made similar attempts at the beginning of the war—ones with insultingly unacceptable conditions or that turned into blatant attempts to ambush the Decepticon Command Staff. Even on the off chance the Prime was sincere, it was too late for any lasting ceasefire. Too much had happened, too many had deactivated, for any such resolution to work, even if the two leaders were able to meet and create one.

After a while, Skyfire stopped checking casualty counts. He knew it was bad. He neither needed nor wanted to know just how bad it actually was. Less injured were being brought in after every battle than when he'd first arrived at the group, and the population of the base was slowly, steadily shrinking through deactivations and reassignments. Several of the other medics had been shipped out to other outposts after raids or ambushes left their healers deactivated or the balance of the war changed again and they were required elsewhere.

Not long after the battle at Iacon, Thundercracker and Skywarp were promoted again. They'd lost many casualties during the siege as well, and Thundercracker had apparently distinguished himself during the planning and fighting. Much of the force that had surrounded Iacon had quietly disintegrated after the battle as the war moved elsewhere, and the three of them followed. They were sent to another part of Cybertron where a large portion of the remaining Autobot army had set up camp.

When he got the chance to prove himself, Thundercracker was a surprisingly talented Commander. First and foremost, he was a very talented flyer, and Seekers, like most airframes, were quite fickle about flying under someone less skilled than them. He also had an unusually talented tactical processer, along with the skill and experience to put it to good use.

Skywarp might not have the same tactical skill at his trinemate, but he was just as good a flyer and his sigma ability made him an invaluable resource in the field. They were good wingmates for each other. It didn't take long before higher ranked mecha took notice of their abilities and they started getting more responsibilities.

Thundercracker became one of the major tacticians and Air Commanders at Straxus, one of the largest battles since the earlier decavorns of the war. The Decepticons had the advantage in both numbers and position, but the gap wasn't wide enough for victory to be certain. Shut in the med-bay with a low clearance level, Skyfire wasn't given much information about the battle itself, but it was enough for Thundercracker to receive a public commendation and another promotion for his efforts.

Then news came of a decisive defeat in the heart of the wastelands outside of Praxus, where the main battles of the war were currently taking place. Both Command Staffs had been entrenched in the wastelands for the past vorn. News about the defeat had been suppressed, but rumor had it that the Autobots had snuck in a large batch of recruits and that the Decepticons had made some sort of major tactical mistake, though it was unclear precisely what kind. The only info that was confirmed was that their Air Commander and his trine had been deactivated in the attack, along with a frightening amount of the rank and file.

* * *

><p>…<p>

The order came a quarter stellar cycle after Straxus had ended, when life had mostly returned to normal and they were just waiting for the Autobot's next move. Skyfire was on shift when the two Seekers were summoned to a meeting with the Base Commander. He didn't think much of it—Thundercracker and Skywarp often spoke with him, though it was rarer without a battle being fought.

When he returned to his quarters, however, it was to find two shell-shocked Seekers waiting for him. Thundercracker was fiddling with a datapad in his hands, turning it over and over as he stared blankly into space. They both perked up at the sound of the door opening and managed to look slightly more functional.

Skyfire immediately focused on the data-pad Thundercracker was holding. "Are we being transferred again?" he asked. The scene was almost identical to the last times Thundercracker had been promoted or transferred to a new base, though they'd never looked quite so dazed before.

Skywarp nodded. "We're heading to the plains near Kaon. The main base."

Skyfire's venting hitched for a moment. He hadn't been expecting _that. _Thundercracker was being promoted to the main base—the one where Megatron and the Command Staff were stationed. It was an enormous opportunity for any mech. He was about to offer congratulations when he was interrupted.

For the first time since he entered, Thundercracker looked up from his datapad. "That's not all," he said slowly. He sounded stunned, and his wings were still flickering uncertainly. "They… want to promote me to the top. High command." His tone betrayed his wonder at the thought.

Skyfire could almost feel his processer stall as he tried to make sense of the info. Thundercracker… was going to be the new Air Commander? He realized he'd been gaping at them and schooled his expression into something a bit more controlled.

"Primus," he breathed. He shook his head, still stunned. "High Command? That's... unbelievable." No wonder they were still so off-balance. It would probably take orns before the thought really sunk in.

Skywarp gave him a shaky smile. "Yeah. 'M still not sure what the frag's going on."

Thundercracker stood up and subspaced the datapad. "We're supposed to leave soon as we can. A transport ship is waiting."

"Now?"

He nodded. "You have time to pack up your tools and other stuff. Not much more than that if we want to stay on their good side though."

"I- yes, I'll be ready." It wouldn't take very long to gather up the meager personal belongings he'd collected. The harder part for all three of them would be getting used to the idea and centering themselves so they didn't seem overwhelmed on their arrival. The orn long travel time would help with that though.

* * *

><p>…<p>

They were welcomed to the base by a Trine of Seekers, and the Trine Leader had wing markings denoting a very high rank among the airframes. As they stepped out, the Seeker pinged them his info—he was the Second in Command of the Aerial force, designation Lunarflash. The three of them inclined their heads and lowered their wings respectfully, though Skyfire didn't miss the glint of curiosity when their optics fell on him.

The six of them made their way through the base without any trouble. Thundercracker spent the time conversing quietly with the mech who was to become his Second, and snatches of conversations about training requirements and tactics floated down the hallway behind them. Skywarp was excitedly speaking with the other two Seekers, hands flicking around him with enthusiasm as they compared information about life at the different outposts, and Skyfire quietly enjoyed the buzz of conversation around him.

They arrived at their quarters within a few breems, though Thundercracker lingered outside to continue speaking with the other Seeker. The rooms were far larger than what they'd had in the previous bases, and Skywarp cackled with glee when he saw that the berths were large enough to comfortably fit their wings. Overall, the rooms were still Spartan and they had few possessions to add to it, but the size made it a far more comfortable fit.

A doorway led to a smaller, adjacent room where Skyfire's berth was, and for once the berth looked suited for his frame. He settled down in a chair in the main room, just listening to Skywarp chatter and enjoying the momentary peace. Thundercracker's initiation ceremony for his new position was set for the next orn and then their duties would start, but for now they had almost a full orn for themselves.

* * *

><p>…<p>

The induction ceremony was, predictably, a large affair. Most of the base was required to attend the ceremony, and it was to be transmitted to many of the other outposts scattered across Cybertron as well Air Commander, after all, was an incredibly important position, and Thundercracker would be given enormous influence in both the fighting and the base politics. Mecha on the High Command Staff were rarely replaced, and most had maintained their position for the majority of the war.

Skyfire took his place with the rest of the lower ranked mecha, settling on the side of the room alongside the other larger framed mecha. Skywarp and Thundercracker both made their way towards the upper ranks in the center of the room. Looking up at them, Skyfire got his first glimpse of the Commanders whom they would share the base with. His processer immediately began connecting the faces with a list of the designation of the Command Staff and their positions, and he was awed by what he found. These were… _legends_ for the Decepticons. War heroes and High Command and mecha that controlled the entire army. They were the best of the best—the mecha that determined the shape of the war itself

And… there he was.

Megatron.

Megatron strode into the room with all the subtlety of a battering ram, and a hush immediately fell over the crowd. The soft murmur of conversation faded, and all optics were on the Gunformer as he stalked towards the center of the room. Skyfire felt his plating shiver a moment as he felt the full force of Megatron's presence. The last time he'd seen him had been countless decavorns ago—back when the mech had still been more gladiator than revolutionary, and even then he'd had the powerful, captivating presence that had drawn so many towards him. Since then, it hadn't faded at all. It had, in fact, grown stronger.

As Megatron stated to speak, Skyfire didn't pay much attention to the speech itself. The words were unimportant—no doubt a mix of an introduction for their new Air Commander, a description of his accomplishments, and a dramatic reassurance that they would soon be led to victory. He'd heard the same before. Instead, he focused on Megatron himself.

Megatron was still a powerful, compelling speaker. He never stopped moving, and he used his size and visual strength to full affect. When he spoke, his tone was like an avalanche—deep and rumbling with power yet still almost hypnotic in its smoothness. The mecha listening were enraptured, and even Thundercracker was puffing up proudly at the praise. Skyfire tuned back in time to hear Megatron still describing the recent victory near Straxus that Thundercracker had helped them win, and he settled in for a long wait.

* * *

><p>…<p>

After the official ceremony ended, most of the unranked mecha trickled out of the room, and the higher ups began to mingle. Skyfire waited on the edge of the slowly emptying room. He would prefer to offer Thundercracker his own congratulations and leave with them, but Thundercracker needed to introduce himself to the mecha he'd be working with first.

He watched as Thundercracker was introduced to the different high-ranked mecha. More precisely, he watched as the established mecha felt Thundercracker out, trying to figure out his personality, what he was going to try to do, how he was going to change the current balance of power among the Commanders, and, most importantly, whether he was going to become their ally or enemy. Thundercracker was doing much the same to them—he knew that the next orn would decide whether he would meet assistance or sabotage, success or failure, in his new position.

Skyfire neither needed nor wanted to be a part of the politics. Instead, he began quietly observing the other Decepticons to see if he could pick out which mecha they could trust to do their job and which were exclusively out for their own benefit. He'd gotten fairly talented at figuring out which mecha were going to be a problem for them, and he'd already managed to tentatively decide on a few of the less influential Commanders that they'd need to watch out for.

Eventually, after they'd had a chance to talk to almost all of the other mecha, the two Seekers slowly drifted over to where he was standing. Skyfire politely offered Thundercracker congratulations as befitting his new rank, but the warmth in his optics betrayed the personal pride he felt towards the Seeker. He was tempted to reach over and touch, but too many optics were on them for such a sentimental action.

He opened a private, three-way com channel instead. ::How is your introduction to the other Commanders going? Any problems?::

Thundercracker's wings shifted minutely, the movement small enough that no ground-frame would have noticed. ::About as well as could be expected. They're already trying to pull me into their power games. It's a good thing so few of them are airframes, or I'd be worried about one of them already trying to steal my position. ::

Skywarp snorted. ::Give me a couple orns and I'll figure out which ones you can trust to keep their word and who'll turn around and stab you in the back first chance they get. ::

Skyfire chuckled at the reminder of one of Skywarp's more unusual skillsets—information gathering, though only about other mecha. Skywarp had a way of disarming people. He knew how to dig up old gossip and hidden info, to get information from others without them even realization what he was doing, and piece it together into something they could use to figure out who they could trust.

Not that they could trust any of the other mecha to keep their word all the time—that was just being ridiculous—but Skywarp could pick through the tangled web of grudges, alliances, and motivations to figure out who would benefit from a betrayal and who couldn't afford the risk of having the Air Commander out for revenge. It was always a gamble. Skywarp was just one of the best at figuring it out and finding a way to turn it to his advantage.

Skyfire was about to tease Skywarp about his overconfidence when the Seeker unexpectedly stilled, his optics locking on something behind the other two. Even his wings had frozen in position.

::Oh, slag, _look who's coming!_:: Skywarp transmitted to them both, the words running together in his excitement.

Skyfire looked where the Seeker was still staring, and his processer hitched at the sight of Megatron moving intently toward them. The Gunformer strode over towards them, and Thundercracker moved forward to meet him. He inclined his head towards the larger mech—not quite a bow but close to it. Skywarp and Skyfire echoed it, though slightly deeper due to their lower rank. Skyfire didn't know whether that was an aftereffect from the war or just having his attention focused almost exclusively on them, but he had the sudden, irrational urge to turn and run away from the intensity of the mech's undivided attention.

Megatron came to a stop in front of the blue Seeker, looking down coolly to meet his optics. "Thundercracker," he said. His voice seemed to reverberate through the entire room when he spoke, making heads turn from halfway around the room.

"Lord Megatron," Thundercracker responded politely.

His optics flickered briefly, analytically, over the Seeker's frame. "You have a good record behind you. Don't disappoint me."

Thundercracker straightened, wings flared out proudly. "I won't, sir."

Megatron seemed satisfied with that answer. Giving them an approving nod, he walked away. A weight seemed to lift from Skyfire's shoulders as he left, and the tension keeping the two Seekers' wings high and rigid eased as well.

"Slag…" Skywarp half-whispered. He sounded stunned and more than a little awestruck as he stared after their leader. "_Megatron _actually spoke with us." He laughed almost giddily in delight.

Skyfire couldn't hold back a smile at that. Looked like Skywarp hadn't gotten over his old idolization of their leader. "You know," he said, "as a member of the new Command Trine, you're going to be seeing a lot more of him now."

Skywarp's optics widened, and his wings practically vibrated with excitement at _that _realization. A subtle glare from Thundercracker, likely accompanied by a prod over their trine bond, got him to conceal his enthusiasm better.

"We're still in public," Thundercracker reminded him, though not too strictly. He was rewarded with a rather sheepish grin from his trinemate.

Soon after Megatron left them, a handful of Seekers descended on them from elsewhere in the room. Skyfire willingly faded into the background and slowly moved away at their appearance. Knowing them, Thundercracker would be busy learning about the resources and mecha he had under his command for the next megacycle, and Skywarp would spend the time feeling out the airframes they'd be working with and starting some tentative alliances.

Eventually, a mech without any adornments of rank walked over to him and politely pinged him his rank and designation. His designation was Silvershard, and he was one of the med-bay assistants. Skyfire nodded politely at him. Looked like it was time for his own, less intense initiation.

"Shall we go to the med-bay now?" he asked. He transmitted a quick, concise message to Skywarp letting him know what was happening and received a short acknowledgement in reply.

"If you're prepared," Silvershard replied almost painfully politely.

Skyfire nodded and inwardly sighed at the start of a familiar pattern, one that repeated every time he had transferred to a new base. For the first few orns, the other similar-ranked mecha would be polite and distant as they tried to figure him out. His obvious connection to Thundercracker and Skywarp made him an anomaly, even more so now that the Seeker was Air Commander. If he chose, he had access to powerful connections and could make their life very difficult. Of course, he had no intention of doing so. He didn't need the enemies.

After they realized he wasn't about to abuse his position, they would start to push. Particularly the ones who saw his calmness and unwillingness to harm his patients as a sign of weakness. Then, if he wanted any chance of carving out his own place in the med-bay, he'd need to figure out some way of proving himself without causing too much damage to anyone's pride or frame. This was why he hated transferring to new bases. Being the new mech was always a trial and far too much of a gamble. He needed to be polite and compliant without being subservient, strong and immovable without undermining anyone's authority. It was all far too complicated.

As they walked, Silvershard transmitted him the usual files. Skyfire knew the drill by now. He openly perused the normal maps, orders, and emergency procedures for all recruits entering a new, established base. Hidden behind them, however, was something new. It was a plain file, marked with the lowest encryption used only by the grunts and with a short, meaningless code for a name. Skyfire glanced at the mech beside him, wondering whether the file had been included by accident. Regardless, he knew the code to read it, so he opened the file.

It was… a list of names. Important names, including what looked like the designations of all the mecha in any command positions beginning with the Command Staff itself. Curious, he accessed the connected file to one of the mecha at random—Soundwave. It started with a large, emphasized warning about his telepathy and his surveillance network across the entire base. Right below that was a suggesting to not cause any lasting harm to Soundwave's Cassettes on pain of deactivation, followed by a short, detailed list of things to avoid in Soundwave's presence. There were also a few short notes on his personality and position. Skyfire read through it in dawning comprehension, and then he chose another name at random, one low enough on the pecking order he didn't recognize his name. Same thing.

_Fascinating._ It was a survival guide for the grunts.

Curious, he looked for the name of the head mech he'd be working under. It was easy to find. His name was Hook—a very familiar designation. He was a member of the Constructicon gestalt, a famous group both on and off the battlefield. The notes on him were even longer than Soundwave's. He was, apparently, an extreme perfectionist with very high standards and an intense dislike for anything that didn't meet them, and he had a reputation for neglecting to use sensor blocks, sometimes for no reason at all. The general consensus was to avoid him and interact with him as little as possible when they couldn't.

Slag. Looked like he was going to be working under another abrasive, likely sadistic Commanding Officer. He sighed. At least he was going to be a low enough rank he shouldn't have to work with the mech much. The file had included a count of the medics working under Hook, and it was the largest med-bay staff he'd seen since the beginning of the attack on Iacon. He wouldn't be surprised if it was the highest concentration of medics left in the entire faction, meaning he would hopefully have little interactions with the Commanding Medical Officer.

Skyfire was awed by the detail in the lists. This was going to be an _incredibly _useful file. He could probably figure out how to act around the higher ups during their treatment from it alone, without any of the problems that cropped up with guesswork. He wouldn't need to do the extensive research and observation he'd always needed to, though he couldn't blindly trust the data given.

Skyfire glanced down at the grounder walking beside him. "Thank you," he said. The assistant could have easily decided not to give him the file due to his obvious connection with the new Air Commander. He wasn't as replaceable as most of the other lower ranked mecha coming in, but it was an invaluable resource to have nonetheless.

Silvershard met his optics for a brief moment and gave him a nod of acknowledgement. "Mecha that memorize that one survive longer," he said quietly.

They spent the rest of the short trip to the med-bay in silence while Skyfire continued skimming through the files.

* * *

><p>…<p>

The new med-bay was different from the ones he'd worked in before, though not by much. The hierarchy was stricter, for one, with Surgeon Hook situated clearly at the top of the pile and other, senior medics underneath him. Skyfire was located firmly at the bottom of the pile, but it didn't bother him much. If anything, he preferred not having to deal with the problems in treating the higher ranked mecha.

Otherwise, the repairs were still the same. The mecha needed the same maintenance updates and suffered from the same types of battle injuries. Skyfire eventually managed to carve his own niche in the med-bay staff, though it took a while with the tightly knit group. Medics took care of their own, particularly with all the Decepticons who thought that noncombatant meant weak. It took almost a vorn to gain their trust, but Skyfire was one of the best programmers they had and he did good work. Once he managed to become a part of the med-bay, his shifts fell into a familiar routine.

He'd been with the base for several vorns when he was stopped by an unfamiliar mech—one of the many lower ranked mecha he vaguely recognized from regular maintenance updates—as he was leaving the med-bay after his shift. The smaller groundframe had been almost running through the hall, and he perked up at the sight of Skyfire leaving the med-bay.

"Hey, medic!" he called, skidding to a stop in front of him. "Commander Livewire requires your presence."

Skyfire frowned as he ran the designation through his processer, and his spark shuddered at what he found. Commander Livewire was the head of the Torture and Interrogation unit. The Commander had more than enough power to order him over and to make his life very unpleasant if he tried to refuse. So Skyfire reluctantly grabbed his tools and followed the smaller mech back the way he'd come. The interrogation cells were kept deep in the middle of the base and several levels down in one of the most heavily protected areas of the base. The farther away from the main base they moved, the quieter it was. Few mecha casually came down to the lower levels, and Skyfire's steps made loud, echoing clangs in the empty halls.

The entrance to the Interrogation unit was, as always, guarded by mecha almost as large as he was. They both passed through after being subjected to a handful of rather invasive scans and security checks. The halls behind them were unsettlingly bright, sterile, and, above all, empty. They only passed one other mech—a mid-sized, harried looking grounder—between entering the division and reaching the main room of the unit. Behind the chamber stood the cells and actual interrogation rooms.

They entered the doors silently. An Officer—it had to be Commander Livewire—was standing in the middle of the empty space, casually cleaning streaks of energon off of his armor with a grungy polishing cloth. He glanced up as they walked in, and his optics immediately fell to the medical markings etched into his armor. He subspaced the polishing cloth.

"Follow me," he commanded shortly. He turned and marched through one of the doors on the opposite side of the room, and Skyfire rushed forward to keep up. Behind him, he heard a soft clanging as the assistant that had lead him there scurried out of the room.

Skyfire followed him deeper into the unit, past closed and unlabeled doors and dark entryways. They came to a stop in front of one of the doors in an overly bright, almost sterile hallway. Commander Livewire keyed open the door and walked smoothly inside. As Skyfire passed through the entryway, the prickly of a high-intensity scan washed over his plating.

In the middle of the room, slumped chained onto a chair, was a mech. The mech was obviously fresh from an interrogation session. Plating was torn or outright missing, wiring was painfully damaged, and energon was still sluggishly leaking energon from dozens of spots. The mech was half slagged, with remnants of torture layered on top of battle injuries. He was thankfully offline.

"Don't let him deactivate," the officer ordered, already leaving the cell. "He's still useful."

He transmitted Skyfire the code that would allow him to leave the cell when he'd finished, and the door slid closed behind him with a whisper of sound. The only noises in the room were the quiet whirling of a camera in the corner and the strangled sound of the Autobot's vents.

Skyfire turned back to the damaged Autobot with trepidation. Outside of the med-bay, he only had access to the basic tools he always carried with him. The repairs were still possible, but he couldn't be as thorough with them as he would have liked. Not that Commander Livewire would care. Skyfire walked over and shifted his manacled arms to reach one of his medical ports to access the damage reports. As he connected himself, he automatically deadened the damaged pain receptors before he started.

Once that was done, he swiftly disconnected himself from the mech. He didn't want the mech thinking he was trying to hack him—that was just asking for disaster. The mech had so many different spots of damage he didn't know where to start. The leaking energon lines seemed like the most immediately dangerous injuries, though, so he leaned over to the deepest slices on his chest and began wielding the delicate lines closed. He had finished the major wounds and moved on to the more minor ones when the prisoner started to shift, and then dull blue optics onlined.

His optics darted blearily around the room, occasionally flickering offline from the damage, before focusing unexpectedly intently on him. His gaze lingered on the Shuttle's Decepticon symbol and the medical etchings on his frame before meeting his optics.

"The slag'r you?" the Autobot asked weakly.

"I'm a medic."

His face curled in suspicion and determination. "Not gonna trick me," he said stubbornly and slightly stronger.

Skyfire frowned in confusion and kept wielding a tear in his energon line. "I'm not trying to trick you. I was ordered by Commander Tripwire to repair your damage."

The Autobot snorted derisively—or tried to, at least. The sudden movement stressed his already damaged frame, and he ended up hacking up energon from a few razor thin cuts in his tank Skyfire hadn't gotten to yet.

"Don't bother pretending to be nice. Not gonna work on me."

"But I'm not trying to…" Skyfire trailed off as the Autobot determinedly looked away from him and focused on the far wall. If the mech had still had access to his sensory controls, Skyfire was sure he would have offlined his audio receptors as well.

After a moment's pause, Skyfire continued repairing the mech anyway. His hands were busy with the repairs, but his processer was still mulling over what the Autobot had said. It made sense for the mech to be suspicious of him regardless of his function, but he couldn't understand why the mech had been so convinced it was a trap. He could see older weld lines against his armor—this wasn't the first time he'd been seen by one of their medics, and Hook had a strict policy of not letting his division get involved with the Interrogation Unit's plots.

Realization hit him, and his spark sank. A normal Decepticon, even a medic, wouldn't have bothered with giving an Autobot pain relief. Pit, he knew some medics that didn't bother deactivating pain receptors for members of their own faction if they were holding a grudge. The mech had probably thought the deadened pain sensors were some new tactic for getting the info. Looking at the state of the mech in front of him, this was probably the first time he'd been free from pain in orns. No wonder the mech had thought he was trying to trick him.

They were at war. It made his spark ache to see what was happening, but he couldn't do anything to help the prisoners—wouldn't have betrayed Thundercracker and Skywarp like that even if he could. Still… that didn't mean there was nothing he could do.

When he finished the repairs and left the cells, Skyfire wrote up a message requesting to be the medic in charge of prisoner repairs. He sent the finished message to Hook for either confirmation or denial. He couldn't do much for the prisoners, but he could at least give them a more sympathetic medic to do their repairs.

He received an answer to his request the next orn. One of the higher ranked medical aides transmitted a new schedule to him, no questioned asked. He was… slightly surprised by how easy it had been, but a moment's thought was enough for him to find an answer. Treating prisoners had to have been one of the most undesirable assignments—patients that hate them, no chance to build connections. It was no wonder he'd gotten it so easily.

On his first orn at his new responsibility, he was cursed out seven times, forced to physically restrain three mecha for repairs, and received one long line of damage from where a grounder had managed to graze him with his claws. Three of the mecha watched him work in stony, vaguely confused silence, and none of them spoke civilly with him. Skyfire wasn't surprised, and he didn't blame them for it. He was still a Decepticon, after all, and in the cells, a medic just meant the Interrogator got a chance to tear them apart again.

Eventually, they all deactivated. Killed by a careless interrogator or deactivated after they'd outlived their usefulness. He tried not to mourn them, and eventually grew almost accustomed to the cycles of the prison block. He never did learn designations, and even their frametypes gradually blurred together. He never admitted it to the Seekers, but he couldn't help the treasonous relief he felt whenever a prisoner he'd treated survived, whether through a successful negotiation or the rarer occasions one managed to escape.

* * *

><p>…..<p>

Energon was growing scarcer. Everyone was on strict rations, and even then there were orns even that wasn't enough. Skyfire was still lucky. The main base he was at was one of the few large enough to defend the large machinery necessary to harvest energon, which meant they often had more fuel than other, smaller outposts.

Harvesting energon from Cybertron's surface was a long, intensive process, and the sites were all too vulnerable to attack. Over the course of the war, the Autobots had managed to destroy almost all of the energon collecting sites they'd once had, and they'd done the same to them. With more mecha, without the war… there was enough energon, if they could only have the time and resources to find it. But the fighting made that impossible.

Rumor had it that the Autobots were planning on leaving Cybertron in search of energy and that members of their own High Command was going to follow them. Thundercracker and Skywarp were both being closed lipped about what was happening, but Skyfire was inclined to believe the rumors. The entire base was teeming with meetings and constant encrypted com chatter. Commanders from other bases came and went, and supplies were being stockpiled at a suspicious rate.

The base was filled with a sense of anticipation as mecha waited for something to change. Battles with the Autobots were suspiciously rare, leaving the frontliners with far too much energy and too little to spend it on. Although nobody had been severely damaged yet, small fights often broke out.

Without much battle damage to repair, shifts in the med-bay were slower than usual. Instead of having fatally wounded mecha to repair, they dealt with minor injuries and fabricating spare parts or circuitry in preparation for when the war picked up again. His normal med-bay shift was interrupted mid-orn when he received a short message flagged as urgent from _Hook,_ of all mecha. He immediately accepted, and Hook's crisp, stilted voice filled his processer.

::You're being summoned to the Throne Room. Megatron wishes to speak to you. ::

The transmission ended with a curl of static as soon as the last word finished, and Skyfire's hand froze over the detached arm he'd been repairing. The room continued moving around him, but Skyfire didn't hear it. Megatron. _Megatron_ wanted to speak with him. He'd barely even seen their Leader since his arrival, and now the mech called him into a private audience? Skyfire carefully cleaned off his tools and set them aside, processer churning uneasily as he tried to compose himself.

It was rare for anyone of lower rank to be called into a private audience with Megatron and almost unheard of for it to end in anything good. Normally it meant that the mech had displeased him enough for Megatron to deal with him personally and in the most dramatic and painful way possible. It was rare for anyone to be treasonous or incompetent enough to warrant Megatron's personal attention, and he wracked his processer trying to think of anything he could have done to attract it. He couldn't.

Skyfire didn't dare hesitate for too much time. Forcing Megatron to wait would only make him angry. He only allowed himself half a breem of hesitation while he emptied his workspace, and then he forced himself to leave the med-bay. The walk through the almost empty hallways between the med-bay and the Throne room had never seemed so long.

Thundercracker and Skywarp were both waiting for him outside of the large doors to the Throne room. Skyfire felt some of his panic dissipate at the sight of them—if he was being summoned because of his connection to the Seekers, then it was far less likely he was about to be deactivated. Still, the two of them looked stressed. Their wings were tense and face carefully emotionless in a way that meant they were nervous and trying to hide it.

"Don't say _anything,_" Skywarp hissed at him when he reached them. He sounded… worried. Almost frightened.

Skyfire nodded, and fear started clawing its way back into his spark again. Then Thundercracker activated the door, and he followed them inside. Megatron was alone in his throne room when they entered, and the sound of the door hissing closed behind them was loud in the silent room. Skyfire had trouble forcing himself to appear calm as the Gunformer's attention focused exclusively on them. Thundercracker took the lead, and Skyfire and Skywarp fell into step behind them as they approached the throne at the center of the room.

Megatron's optics roamed over them for a klik before focusing on Thundercracker. Even perched on his throne, Megatron was still below optic level for Skyfire, but the Shuttle felt small under that indifferent gaze. Their Leader's armor gleamed under the bright lighting, and his Fusion Cannon was a large, undeniable presence on his arm. His face was closed off, almost bored.

"We are leaving Cybertron," he began unceremoniously. His voice was cold and strictly commanding. "We have proof that the Autobots are leaving to search for new energy sources, and we will follow them. I will be taking a small, elite force with me on the Nemesis, leaving Shockwave in charge of combating the remaining Autobots. As my Air Commander, you and your trinemate are coming with me."

Skyfire was barely able to stop himself from making a rather embarrassing sound. Megatron himself was leaving the planet? What the slag? His processer buzzed with activity as he analyzed the new information. If Megatron was planning on leaving the planet, then that meant that the Prime and likely most of the Autobot Command Staff were leaving as well. Unbelievable… It looked like both of the High Commands were going to leave Cybertron. He couldn't imagine what this would mean for the war. Thundercracker didn't look surprised by the statement. Then again, Skyfire didn't expect him to be—he would have known far more about the plan than Skyfire was authorized to.

Thundercracker shifted beside him, moving almost imperceptibly closer to the other two. "And Skyfire is not coming with us."

For the first time, Megatron looked past the two Seekers to him. Skyfire met his optics for less than a klik, and he found only disdain there. "No," he said.

It was an order, a declaration of a decision already made and unchangeable. If Skyfire had been the recipient of that implacable denial, he would have backed down. Immediately. This was Megatron, the Slagmaker, leader of the Decepticons, and a thousand other titles, and you didn't cross him unless you were prepared for a quick deactivation. Thundercracker was braver—and more foolhardy—than he was. He kept speaking.

"You are aware of the modified contract we have that Skyfire goes where we go," Thundercracker said. It wasn't a question. "He was our Trineleader's bondmate before his deactivation. As Seekers, we're honor bound to protect him as our kin."

To any Seeker, who almost universally valued Trine and Trine-kin as one of the most precious things in their existence, that statement would have been more than enough. Grounders who had any dealings with the frametype and understood their cultures would have likely accepted the reasoning as well instead of facing the resulting, long-lived grudges. Megatron wasn't like that. Their leader may have had extensive experience with Seekers, but he was also the leader of the Decepticons and anything involving sentimentality was the wrong way to change his mind.

Megatron's expression darkened and his hand tightened audibly on the side of his throne in displeasure. "I'm modifying the contract. You will be coming with me on the Nemesis, and you're… _ally _will remain unharmed here until our return."

Thundercracker's wings flickered nervously for a few moments before settling in a firm, steady position. "Then I'm afraid I must refuse"

The entire room seemed to freeze. Nobody refused Megatron like that—not if they wanted to stay intact.

"And if I order you to come without him?" Megatron's voice had deepened almost into a growl, and the threat in it was unmistakable.

Thundercracker hesitated. He could hear the threat in his voice as clearly as Skyfire could. They'd all seen the way Megatron occasionally wielded his fists or even his fusion cannon to punish mecha that went against him. Now was the time to give in—the last chance they'd likely have before Megatron completely lost his patience.

Thundercracker's hesitant, uneasy voice cut through the terse silence. "He could be useful," he said quietly. His vocalizer almost stuttered for a moment, and his optics were overly bright with fear.

"Thundercracker…" Megatron growled dangerously. He shifted forward in his throne, ostensibly flashing the fusion cannon on his arm with the movement.

The tips of Thundercracker's wings trembled for a klik before he was able to bring it under control. He bowed deeply towards him as he said, "Please, my Lord, allow me to speak." His voice was stronger. Less uncertain.

Megatron didn't say anything and his expression didn't soften, but he settled minutely back into his throne. He always had enjoyed shows of subservience, but his patience was still at the breaking point. Skyfire prayed that Thundercracker knew what he was doing, else the Seeker, and likely the two of them as well, would end up in the med-bay in the orns until the Nemesis's departure.

Thundercracker took Megatron's silence as the fragile permission it was. "Skyfire is more than just a medic," he continued carefully. "He's skilled with long ranged weapons, and his size makes him useful as a guard or transport. More than that, he's an Academy-trained scientist with a specialty in interplanetary travel. He has extensive experience with navigating uncharted space and detailed knowledge in reading and interpreting star charts. We don't know where our pursuit of the Autobots will take us, and his experience in that alone could prove invaluable."

Megatron looked slightly intrigued by that, or at least more willing to listen and less to just slag them and be done with it. "I already have Astrotrain," he countered.

Thundercracker scoffed, but the sound sounded forced. "Astrotrain was trained in a far smaller institute to travel through charted, well-known routes. He may have experience with interplanetary travel and navigation, but he doesn't have nearly Skyfire's experience surviving the dangers of uncharted space and uninhabited planets. Skyfire was trained to survive and find energon in uncharted territory. As a scientist, he had to learn many different ways of converting different types of energy into functional energon."

The last statement made Megatron's optics brighten, and he turned to look directly at the Shuttle. "Is this true?"

Skyfire nearly froze from having Megatron speaking directly to him. He forced his spark to calm. He couldn't show any weakness, especially now. "Yes. My partner and I often had to make many different types of energon converters depending on the composition of the planet and the forms of energy available."

He was able to keep his voice unexpectedly stable, but to his audios the slight quaver in his tone was all too obvious. Megatron had to have noticed it. Skyfire prayed that the Gunformer would take it as a sign of submission, not weakness.

"I will consider it."

He waved them away in a clear dismissal, and the three of them immediately bowed respectfully and left. The Throne room door hissed closed behind them, and they wordlessly began moving back to their quarters. There was no way Skyfire was going back to complete his shift after_ that._

"_Slag,_" Skywarp breathed as soon as they were out of audio range. "Oh, slag, I thought he was gonna _deactivate _us."

Skyfire silently agreed. They'd gotten lucky. He looked over at the blue Seeker walking silently beside them. "That was dangerous, Thundercracker," he said.

The Seeker let out a shuddering vent. "I know."

His voice wasn't as even as it had been while speaking with Megatron. It was starting to waver. Skyfire put a hand on his shoulder and wasn't surprised to find it starting to tremble. Slag, anyone would be in danger of falling apart after confronting Megatron himself like that—Skyfire was impressed that he'd managed to stay so calm and level-headed in the face of Megatron's ire at all. The hallway, however, was not the place to show any weakness.

"Skywarp?"

The purple Seeker was already leaning over to stabilize his trinemate. "Got it," he said.

He reached out to Skyfire with his other hand, and then the three disappeared in the familiar blur of purple. When Skyfire onlined his optics again, they were in the two Seekers' shared quarters. Thundercracker almost immediately slumped down to the floor and leaned against a wall for support, his wings shuddering almost violently against the metal behind him. Skyfire settled on one side of him, Skywarp on the other, as they comforted him as well as they could. Slowly, the trembles began to abate. His armor, though, was still pressed tightly, protectively, against his frame.

Skyfire stroked along one wing carefully, keeping the contact light and comforting. "You handled that incredibly well," he offered quietly. "Far better than anyone could have expected."

Thundercracker's wings pressed into the contact. "And if it still didn't work?" he asked quietly. "If Megatron thinks it through and decides you're still not worth the resources to bring? We can't-" He shuddered again harshly. "Air Commander or not, he'll deactivate us all if we try to go against him again."

Skyfire kept rubbing his wing soothingly. There was a good chance that Megatron wouldn't change his mind. A very good chance. Megatron wasn't easily swayed, particularly if he felt it would be an affront to his pride or undermine his authority in anyway. Thundercracker had managed to keep the conversation private enough and non-confrontational enough that they had a chance, no matter how slim.

"Then you'll go with him on the Nemesis and have to trust that I can keep myself online on Cybertron until your return." It was the only thing they could do.

Being alone again would be… hard. Excruciatingly so. He would manage, though. He'd survived being alone after Starscream's death so many megavorns ago. He would certainly be able to survive the loneliness again for another vorn if the two Seekers were forced to leave without him. Without the leaders of the factions there to control their armies, it was entirely possible that the fighting on Cybertron would even decrease during their absence. Skywarp and Thundercracker would be the ones in danger of deactivating during a separation. He didn't know what he would do if that happened.

He forced himself to stop dwelling on the possibility. Thinking about what could happen wouldn't help. They still had the chance that Megatron would allow him to come. If he didn't… Skyfire shuddered unhappily and moved closer to the two Seekers. If he had to stay behind, then he would have to deal with it then.

…..

~.*.~

**AN:** And now we're finally about to leave Cybertron. I'm so excited right now :). Fun as it is to think up random names, I would have liked to include more canon names, but then I realized that the Decepticon Command structure is... pretty much nonexistent. On that note, TC is not, actually, the Second in Command like Starscream was. I would have mentioned who got the position instead, but I honestly couldn't figure out who it could have logically gone to. Also, I had to move the bond malfunction scene to the next chapter cause of space, for anyone wondering.

I do have a question about ship names for anyone that is actually familiar with the original canon. From what I've read in episode summaries and such, the Nemesis was the 'Cons original flagship, and it was lost during the crash on Earth. Then the Decepticons woke up and started building a new ship to travel back to Cybertron named the Victory, which was the ship that was shot down and landed in the ocean. The original Nemesis was later found buried under a mountain or something. However, in fanfiction, the ship under the ocean is almost always called the Nemesis, and there's very little mention of a ship called the Victory. So, basically, should I call the Decepticon ship in the ocean the Victory or the Nemesis? ( Kudos to anyone who can explain it to me :).


	10. Leaving Cybertron

Tangled Destiny

Ch. 10- Leaving Cybertron

* * *

><p>The next orn, they still hadn't heard anything from Megatron. Their Leader was constantly tied up in top secret meetings, and Thundercracker wisely hadn't dared bring up the topic again. Skyfire went about his daily shifts normally, but his spark was constantly tangled up with worry. Time was ticking away from them. The Autobots would be making their move soon, and after that it wouldn't matter whether their Leader changed his mind on his usefulness or not. He'd be trapped on Cybertron either way.<p>

Thundercracker had told him what he knew about the upcoming plan less than a megacycle after their ill-fated conversation in the Throne Room. Megatron was sure that the Autobots were planning on sending their main flagship, the Ark, away from Cybertron in search of planets with harvestable energy to bring back to the war. They'd had confirmation that the Prime himself would be leading the expedition, and he would almost certainly be taking a large portion of the Autobot High Command as well.

Needless to say, Megatron couldn't allow the mission to succeed. If the Autobots actually managed to set up a steady supply line to his troops, then it could win them the war. They would have the energon to fully fuel their troops, and Skyfire shuddered to think of just how much of a difference that would make on the battlefield.

Megatron was equipping the Decepticon flagship, the Nemesis, so the ship could pursue the Ark away from Cybertron. Almost all the High Command was chosen to leave with him, and several Elite soldiers had been handpicked to accompany them, leaving just enough of the upper ranks to keep their end of the war running in the absence of both sets of leaders. With the recent, continual lack of resources and fighters, the war had already fallen nearly to a standstill, and it would almost certainly stay that way in their absence.

When Skyfire onlined a full two orns after the confrontation, he found a new, highly encrypted file waiting for him in his communications inbox. He opened the message slowly, frame tense and processer whirling in anxious anticipation. The message was only a few lines long, but its impact belied its length.

Skyfire read through the message a second time, then a third. The words imprinted themselves on his processer easily enough, but the meaning just couldn't seem to make sense. He'd just started his fourth time through when Skywarp came bounding through the dividing door between their quarters, only to pause in the doorway at the sight of the Shuttle staring blankly into space. Skyfire spared the processer space to give the Seeker a short glance before focusing back on the message, which only seemed to make the Seeker more curious.

Cocking his head, Skywarp stepped closer until he was right beside the Shuttle. "Skyfire? What is it?"

"He changed his mind…" Skyfire whispered.

Looking at him oddly, Skywarp plopped down on the berth in front of him and poked the armor on his chest inquisitively. "Who?"

"Megatron," Skyfire said, looking up to meet red optics beginning to widen in dawning realization. "He's actually changed his mind."

He transmitted the file to Skywarp. It was the official order for him to leave his normal duties and join the Nemesis expedition. Short, crisp, and completely unbelievable. Skywarp literally froze as he received the copy, and not even his optics or wingtips moved. Then his optics flickered as he sent a transmission of his own. Skyfire guessed it was a message to Thundercracker, and his prediction was confirmed when the doors swirled open again and Thundercracker came half-running inside.

"You're coming with us? Megatron actually…" he trailed off. Thundercracker started to smile, then laughed almost hesitantly, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "It worked. I can't believe it slagging _worked_."

Skyfire impulsively reached over and pulled Thundercracker down beside him and Skywarp, close enough to feel the warmth of the other two frames. He wasn't going to lose this. No matter what came next, he wasn't going to end up alone again.

* * *

><p>…<p>

As he continued with his normal routines over the next few orns, Skyfire felt lighter, almost relaxed for the first time in far too long. The tense expectant atmosphere of the building hadn't lessened at all, but he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders nonetheless. Whatever happened, wherever they went, he was still going to stay with his Seekers.

Half a megacycle into his latest med-bay shift, the tension finally broke. Alarm bells began to ring, and the air around him immediately came alive with transmissions and com conversations at the sound. They were a mix of base-wide announcements and short ranged queries, all of different encryption levels. Two of the unencrypted, wide-ranged transmissions played over each other in his communications array, but he could understand enough. The Autobots were attacking a nearby encampment en mass, and they had been radioed for reinforcements. The medics immediately began moving to their stations, arranging tools and organizing materials in preparation for the coming injuries.

Less than half a breem after the alarms first began to sound, Medical Commander Hook closed up his tools and, with a curt order for all of them to continue working, left the med-bay. Everyone paused to watch the med-bay doors close behind him, and the transmissions scattering across the base gained a new complexity as almost the entire med-bay began speculating about what could possibly cause Hook to abandon his med-bay during battle preparations.

Skyfire kept staring at the place he'd last seen Commander Hook even after the closed doors cut him off from sight. He could only think of one thing that would draw that mech away from the med-bay. He hesitated, caught between following Commander Hook out and waiting for orders confirming it was time for the Nemesis expedition to assemble.

One of the transmissions that reached his comms was tagged with Thundercracker's personal identification number, and Skyfire immediately cut out the interference from all the other messages to listen to it.

:: Skyfire, get to the loading bay _now! _The Autobots are making their move::

That was all he needed. Skyfire immediately sub-spaced the tools he'd been holding and made his way out of the room, ignoring the questions it prompted from the remaining medics. A set of coordinates had been attached to the transmission, and a moment's thought connected the location with one of the loading bays along the northern edge of the headquarters.

:: I'm on my way. :: he sent back. The channel clicked closed almost immediately as Thundercracker's full focus returned to back to whatever he needed to do—probably coordinating the flyers from afar so his physical absence wasn't as noticeable.

Skyfire all but ran down the hallways, dodging grounders and airframes alike as the entire Base mobilized for battle and as, unbeknownst to the rest of the army, the selected crew of the Nemesis gathered in the loading bay. Ever since he'd been accepted into the crew of the Nemesis, he'd carried everything he needed to bring with him in his subspace. Now, he was thankful for it. By the sound of Thundercracker's voice, he wouldn't have had time to stop by his quarters, and the Nemesis sure as the Pit wouldn't wait for him.

The loading bay was a mess of activity when Skyfire arrived, and in the middle of it all stood the Nemesis. It was the first time Skyfire had actually seen the marvel of engineering that was the newest Decepticon warship. Heavily modified for war, the ship's armor was almost unthinkably thick, and he could pick out the heavily reinforced seams where powerfully modified weapons were hidden. Its lines were sleek and smooth, speaking of both speed and strength.

Thundercracker was standing with Skywarp and Lunarflash in the center of the loading bay, alternating between barking orders at the mecha swarming around him and concentrating on a fast paced, highly-encrypted com channel. Technicians were crawling around the ship as they readied it for takeoff, and many of the mecha were already making their way inside. Skyfire eyed the ship's entrance thoughtfully before deciding to join the small group of Seekers instead.

Skywarp caught sight of him when he was about halfway there and waved him over with a strained smile before turning back to watching his trinemate fretfully. As he grew closer, Skyfire found Thundercrackers optics and, though the blue Seeker didn't have the time to acknowledge him, the Seeker's stress-tight plating loosened slightly at the sight of him.

All at once, a wave of tension seemed to swell over the entire room, leaving mecha cursing and scrambling around hastily. Thundercracker twisted toward the ship, swearing vividly. He immediately marched quickly towards the ship, the other two Seekers trailing after him like contrails off the wings of a jet. Skywarp snagged Skyfire's arm as he moved past him, dragging him along as well.

"The Ark just launched," he explained under his breath.

Skyfire nodded and sped up so he was in step with the Seeker. "How long until we follow?"

Skywarp shrugged. "A breem. Less if everyone important gets on sooner."

He looked up at the rapidly filling ship. Slag. A breem was barely any time at all. Thankfully, it seemed like most of the equipment and supplies had already been loaded in preparation, so it was only the remaining mecha that needed to enter. As they entered the wide loading hatch, Thundercracker was carried off to the Command Deck with Lunarflash and the other Officers, and Skywarp and Skyfire drifted along towards the back of the ship with the rest of the lower ranks. A crowd had gathered along the small rec room and surrounding hallways as mecha filed into the ship. Nobody knew what they were meant to do or where their quarters were, so they just packed tighter together and waited for orders to come.

The ships engines rumbled to life with a loud, low note that vibrated the floor beneath them. The mecha surrounding them immediately hunkered down as much as they could with the limited space, tucking their armored plating close to their frame and bracing themselves on whatever they could reach. As more power was routed to the engines, Skyfire found out why. The Nemesis wasn't equipped with interstellar-quality shock absorption, and the inertia from the initial blast of energy was enough to send almost the entire group tumbling to the floor. Skyfire staggered under the weight of it, and he felt Skywarp stumble against the side of his frame.

As the acceleration equalized, their frames were able to steady themselves again, and they cautiously began to relax from their braced stances. The first violent shudder as the Nemesis reached the first layer of Cybertron's atmosphere sent them back to their defensive positions soon enough. From their vantage point, they had no way of looking out of the ship, but Skyfire still had the memory files of Cybertron disappearing behind him from when he'd still been an explorer. He could feel Skywarp shifting anxiously beside him, so he transmitted the Seeker a copy of the memory.

The ship gave one last, intense quake underneath them as they left the pull of Cybertron's gravitational field. It felt strange to be weathering the sensation inside of a ship instead of from his alt mode, but he would get used to it. It wasn't the first time he'd flown inside a normal ship, just the first time he'd left Cybertron in one. Artificial gravity kicked in with a jerk—another first for the shuttle. He'd never bothered with it when it was just him and Starscream.

The flight continued smoothly after that, though the rest of the mecha kept up tensely muttered conversations and movements. Every so often the ship would jerk under them as it turned or sped up after the Autobots, but nothing happened that was strong enough to hint that they were close enough for a fight. After a moment, Skyfire offlined his optics and immersed himself in the old memories.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Life on the Nemesis was… tedious.

The Nemesis drifted through space as they followed the Autobots trail. They'd been quick enough that they were in no danger of losing track of the Ark's signature on their scanners, but the Autobots had gotten enough of a head start that it would be orns before the Nemesis's stronger engines were enough to overcome the distance. Meanwhile, aside from the navigator and other assorted technicians, there was nothing for the rest of them to do besides wait.

With Megatron and the rest of the Command Staff so close, none of the frontliners dared risk a brawl to relieve a tension, which meant Skyfire didn't even have any repairs to occupy his time with. Aside from Hook, he was the only other certified medic on the ship, and finding out he'd be working directly under the perfectionist had been a rather unpleasant surprise. The rest of the ship was all but boiling over with repressed tension, so Skyfire spent most of his free time in his quarters.

Unlike their last quarters, his room wasn't attached to Skywarp and Thundercracker's this time. It was a far smaller room—grunts quarters, with a berth barely big enough for him—but Skyfire didn't mind the inconvenience. He was just grateful to be on the ship instead of trapped back on Cybertron. Besides, he preferred to spend his off-shift with the Seekers in their far larger quarters anyway.

With his new free time, he started tinkering with old, half-forgotten experiments again. He didn't have any of the precise equipment or materials he'd once used, but there was enough old tools and material in his subspace for him to figure something out. He'd forgotten how good working on a project that didn't involve battle damage or tangled Decepticon politics could feel. It was just clean, comfortable experimentation. Without the tools or any set goal, he couldn't get anything truly worthwhile done, but he did manage to clean up some old, inefficient programs for energon synthesis and, more importantly, keep his processer occupied and as relaxed as possible onboard the warship.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Half an orn after leaving Cybertron, Skyfire's spark started to ache—a familiar, frozen pain that intermittently pulsed its way through his frame. The beaker he'd been holding fell from suddenly numb fingers to crash loudly into hundreds of glimmering pieces. He may have made some sort of shocked sound, but after the first pulse of spark-pain, he'd stopped paying attention to anything else. It had been megavorns since he'd last felt that unmistakable pain. With a quick transmission, the door to his quarters locked, and he hesitantly focused on his spark in a way he hadn't for so many vorns.

The empty bond, which had been cold and dormant for so long, was actively pulsing against his spark, sending knifes of ice erratically through his frame. Shock and growing pain kept him frozen for a moment, and it was a full half breem before the burst of sensation dulled to a simmering, sensitive reminder. When that happened, Skyfire unclenched his fingers from the dents he didn't remember making in his desk and stepped back, venting harshly.

It had been long enough since he'd thought about it that he had to focus to access the memories, but he knew what would follow. That short pulse of pain had been more a warning than anything, though an intensely strong one. The pain always pulsed in cycles, short bursts that increased in intensity and duration until it finally crested with a force that left him immobile and unable to think for the cold. With how intense that first pulse had been, he didn't want to think about what the final burst would become.

Skyfire moved almost mechanically as he focused on preparing for the next few megacycles. The door stayed locked, and he prepared a short message to send to Skywarp and Thundercracker telling them he was caught up in a delicate experiment and wouldn't be able to join them that megacycle. For the first time, he was grateful for the distance between their quarters. The Seekers didn't deserve the reminder of their own broken bond.

Skyfire stayed in his room with his mismatched projects as the aches steadily increased, stronger than they'd been since those first few vorns after his loss. He tried to continue working on his projects again in short bursts, but he found himself unable to focus on the equations and materials. Every time he tried to concentrate, his processer kept returning to one haunting question—why? Why now, after all these vorns, had the broken sparkbond flared back to life so strongly? Had leaving Cybertron's surface really cause so much of a difference, or was there something about the composition of space that reacted with sparkbonds? With no answers and no way to find them, the questions just swirled unendingly in his processer.

A particularly strong flare of pain sent him nearly crashing to the ground. He half-fell into his desk instead, leaning against its solid presence as he hunched around his spark. It felt like an icy vice was squeezing his sparkchamber, and each pulse of his spark only felt colder until it peaked and faded back into the frozen ache. He finally gave up trying to distract himself with his experiments and collapsed on his berth instead to wait the final few pulses out.

Eventually, his com pinged with a request from Thundercracker, and he sent them the prepared message. They obediently left him alone, for which he was grateful. He didn't think he had the concentration left for an argument or even a second transmission. He didn't need to wait long for the final surge to come. Skyfire nearly blacked out from the force. Words failed him, and for a timeless eternity, the intense, arctic pain claimed him, spark and frame. When it was finally over, warmth and sensation slowly crept back over his frame. His spark continued to pulse painfully, but it was bearable.

He waited for his frame to stop trembling and his raw emotions to calm enough for him to fake the rest. Then he opened his doors as calmly as he could and started the too long journey to the Skywarp and Thundercracker's quarters. Bracing himself, he controlled his face and wings and anything else that could potentially show weakness to the other Decepticons wandering the hallway. The Seekers knew him well enough to be able to tell something was wrong, but he was trusting they would let the matter drop once they realized he didn't want to talk about it. For now, though, he didn't want to be alone.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Skyfire filed into the loading bay with the non-ranking Elites as orders were broadcasts to the different soldiers. They'd finally gotten in reach of the Ark, and the boarding ramp was almost ready to be deployed. Skyfire wasn't technically included with the Elites and there were no other noncombatants on the ship, but he'd still been included in the wide-ranged com orders, even if he had no idea what to do next. He was left staring at a milling sea of red optics and thick, warrior grade plating. Skyfire felt distinctly out of place among them.

He'd soon learned that he was the only mech on the Nemesis with blue optics. It wasn't too much of a surprise—Iaconian blue optics had always been uncommon in the 'Cons, particularly among the Elite—but finding out everyone else on the ship carried either the Kaonite or Vosnian shade of red optics was still a disconcerting discovery.

The broad doors to the rest of the ship swung open, and the Command Staff entered. Megatron's imposing presence was first, followed by the other high ranking Combat specialists. Their Leader was still speaking quietly to the mecha surrounding him, though the low, indiscernible rumble of his voice seemed to fill the entire room. Thundercracker stood up there with him, though he was placed closer to the back of the group. Airframes in general were vastly more suited to aerial combat, and they wouldn't find near enough space to be as effective in the close-quarters battle that was to follow.

On an unspoken command, the Elites started to shift around him. The heaviest armored frontliners migrated towards the front of the loading bay, closer to where the boarding ramp was to be deployed. Lighter frametypes and long-distance combat specialists were pushed towards the back of the ranks, and Skyfire followed the flow until he was in the last rows of mecha. He may be required to join the battle as all mecha save the Navigational crew were, but that didn't mean he would be nearly as effective as the battle-hardened warriors beside him.

Skyfire took out a high high-quality plasma rifle from his subspace, its weight nearly as familiar to him by now as the technical tools he'd once wielded had been. He knew how to fire it—had trained itself in its use for megavorns—but this would be the first time he'd carry it into true battle. He tried to calm his processer. It didn't work.

The boarding ramp clicked into place with a reverberating thud, and the entire room fell completely silent. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, and even their vents seemed to have stopped cycling. Then Megatron stepped forward with a loud roar of challenge, and the temporary tranquility descended into chaos. Megatron and the other Officers led the charge into the Ark with the rest of the Elite following close after, and the Autobots were waiting for them. Skyfire couldn't see the Autobots that met their charge, but he could certainly hear the ground-shaking crash as the two sides collided. He entered the boarding ramp at the rear of the group, after the first charge had already pushed most of the Autobots deeper into their ship.

Skyfire lingered near the back of the Ark, using his plasma rifle to help the other Decepticons whenever he found the chance. Even the Autobots' armor was all thick enough that nothing less than a point-blank blast would do serious damage, but he still felt a twinge of guilt whenever his shots connected. The fighting dragged on, each klik feeling like a minor eternity, and his audios were overwhelmed by the chaotic clamor of metal colliding with metal and the unmistakable whir of high-powered blasters. A stray blaster bolt streaked past his head, nearly scorching the thinly armored plating of his cheek as it passed.

The entire ship unexpectedly lurched to the side, forcing Skyfire to lean heavily against a nearby orange wall, and his processer immediately leapt into overdrive. He recognized that sensation. The ship was shuddering through the start of atmospheric reentry, and judging by the haphazard intensity of the quakes, they were descending far, far too rapidly. Even in the middle of a battle, no sane pilot would risk an uncontrolled landing over a completely unknown planet. He'd read the Ark's pilot's file. The mech was one of the best the Autobots had to offer, known more for his composure under pressure than risk taking. He wouldn't have authorized a dive into the gravitational field of a strange planet.

Which meant he couldn't be flying the ship. Sometime during the fighting, the pilot must have lost control over the ship. _Slag_. Even if someone managed to gain control of the navigational equipment again, the pull of the planet would be too strong to escape anymore. They were going to crash.

Around him, mecha from both sides continued to fight, ignorant of what the pressure shaking the ship really meant. They would find out soon enough though. Skyfire considered sending a brief transmission to warn Skywarp and Thundercracker but decided against it. Even if they were in the Command Deck, there was nothing they could do to free the ship from the gravitational field anymore, and he didn't want to put them in even more danger by distracting them from the fight.

The ship tilted into a deeper dive, and the artificial gravity cut out all at once. The mecha from both sides were forced to stop fighting, finally realizing that something was wrong as the growing pull of the planet's gravitational field tried to yank their feet out from under them. Alarmed shouts filled the air as both sides struggled to hold their ground, many of them sliding across the smooth metal floor. Skyfire grimly braced himself against a bolted down, utilitarian table along one of the walls.

A loudly cursing blur of red started to tumble past him, and Skyfire automatically reached out and snagged hold of the falling figure. Once his processer caught up with his reaction, he immediately regretted the action.

It was a minibot. An obviously Autobot minibot, to be precise, and one that looked nearly as unhappy to be hanging upside down by his leg as he had been freefalling towards the front of the ship. Even amid the chaos of the crashing ship, he was able to meet surprised, battle-bright blue optics for a timeless moment. Skyfire briefly considered just letting the Autobot's leg go, but the decision was taken out of his hands when the ship jerked again and the red minibot swung close enough to the table to grab his own handhold. After that, there wasn't time to worry about the other mech. The growing free-fall twisted out into a straighter path, and the added inertia almost tore him away from his handhold.

He didn't even register the impact before everything went black.

* * *

><p>…<p>

When he started to online, the first thing Skyfire was aware of was the sense that something was wrong with his frame. He wasn't onlining right—it was too slow, too uneven. Error messages came to the forefront of his processer, and he flicked through reports of corrosion and minor damage from what seemed like every part of his frame. Even his processer felt sluggish as it meandered towards full consciousness. The closest thing he could compare it to was coming out of a medical stasis, but even that had been smoother than this haphazard onlining.

His sensor net reconnected, and he groaned at the aches and stiffness permeating his entire frame. Nothing was missing or even severely damaged though, so he did his best to cut down the sensory feedback so he could think better. A bright orange blur greeted his optics, and he had to reset them several times before the smudges of black and blue in front of him solidified into Thundercracker's face. He slowly pushed himself up, hissing as every joint in his frame seemed to resist the movement. His chronometer had been corrupted, but they'd had to have been in stasis for an obscenely long time judging by the weakness in his frame.

Thundercracker was saying something, but his audios hadn't recovered enough to interpret sound yet. His communications array was still offline as well, so he held up a hand to silence the Seeker and brought up the problematic coding. It held a few errors his self-repair hadn't found yet, and he corrected them with a moment's thought, making his audios fizzle back online with a grating screech of static. The clangs and clatter of mecha moving around filled his processer as he turned back to Thundercracker. For the first time, he noticed Skywarp waiting beside Thundercracker, waiting for his systems to recover with as much patience as he possessed.

"What happened?" he asked unevenly after resetting his vocalizer a few times.

They were still in the Ark, but the ship was most definitely not moving anymore. The silent thrum of the engines was still beneath them, and the weight of real gravity, not artificial, pulled at him. The gravity was weaker than what he was used to on Cybertron, and his sensors registered a far thicker atmosphere surrounding them.

Thundercracker hesitated, looking at him oddly. "Do you remember the crash?"

The memory files immediately scrolled to the front of his processer, and he nodded. It was a slagging miracle he was even online to remember it. That had been a Pit of a crash, and one that probably should have torn the ship apart around them, to say nothing of the mecha inside it. The Ark had to be a stronger ship than he'd assumed. As he glanced around them, the only mecha moving had the purple Decepticon insignia etched somewhere on their frames.

"We won?"

Skywarp grinned widely, perking up proudly where he sat "Yep!" he chirped. "We already found where all the major players are, and the Autobots are all still out _cold_."

Skyfire felt his processer stutter as he realized what that meant. _Primus_. The war was… essentially over. The entire Autobot Command Staff had been on this ship—the Prime, the Second and Third of the army, most of the higher Autobot Elites. Even if the bulk of the Autobot army was still back on Cybertron, it meant little with their leadership essentially annihilated.

Everyone he saw seemed to be wandering around aimlessly, seemingly in shock that the Autobots could be defeated so abruptly. Aside from Thundercracker, he couldn't see any of the Decepticon Command Staff either. Skyfire… had no idea what they were supposed to be doing now. They were still in the Autobot flagship after all, even if all the Autobots were stasis-locked, and after having crash landed on an unknown planet nonetheless.

He turned to Thundercracker, who was glancing idly at the mecha around them. "So what happens next?" he asked.

The Seeker shrugged. "We're gonna need a new ship, to start with. This one's code locked to the Autobots, and the Nemesis broke free during the crash. Who knows where it ended up. After that… I'm not sure. We'll return to Cybertron and finish the war, I suppose, and then… who knows?" His mouth quirked up in a small smile. "I guess we're all going to have to learn how to live during peace again."

Peace. After all these millennia. It sounded impossible, but there was nothing he wanted more. He hoped this planet had the resources that would allow them to build a new ship. Otherwise they'd have to resort to scavenging parts from the Ark, and then they'd have to deal with whatever traps and safeguards the Autobots had added. Not a pleasant prospect, particularly since he'd likely be the one fixing the resulting damage.

A sudden thought occurred to him, and he nearly groaned out loud. "I'm going to be doing maintenance checks for metacycles before we've fixed everyone's stasis damage," he said, already starting to look the two Seekers over and tagging the many spots of degradation. Slag, that kind of repairs was always time consuming and exceedingly tedious, and they only had two mecha to work through the entire crew of the Nemesis. He was going to want to claw his optics out by the time they were finished.

Skywarp laughed—a loud, full framed thing that was as much half-hysteric relief as humor. "Look at it this way," he said, still chuckling. "Without any new battle damage, you'll have a slagload of extra time to finish it in." He spun in place, looking back over his shoulder to talk to them. "Let's get outta here. Soundwave and Lord Megatron are still trying to hack the ship, but I want to see what kinda planet we're stuck on."

With that, Skywarp started bouncing merrily towards where Skyfire assumed the front of the ship was, and they followed closely behind. They passed the bright red minibot only a few mechameters from where he'd onlined, where the impact must have thrown him. Skyfire resisted the urge to nudge him or one of the other offline Autobots as he navigated around their prone forms. They were only in a deep stasis, not deactivated, though it was a close thing. Energy conservation had shut down all of their systems except spark-containment, and the only way Skyfire could tell they were still alive was by the color of their armor.

Their plating was still bright, if slightly faded from lack of energon. By the looks of their armor, they probably had a couple more vorns, maybe a decavorn at most before lack of energon was enough to extinguish their sparks, no matter how many systems had been offlined to save energy. He almost opened his mouth to ask why they were all leaving the Autobots alone, but he thought better of it. He didn't want to give them ideas. At war they might be, but the idea of deactivating an unconscious, stasis-locked mech still made his spark clench with disgust.

Thundercracker must have followed his gaze anyway. He sighed, prodding a stray limb away from their feet. "Megatron wants to leave them there to deactivate on their own. I'm not sure why. He probably thinks it's a fitting end for them."

Skywarp snorted and pranced back to their side to whisper conspiratorially. "Pretty slagging stupid if you ask me, but Lord Megatron is acting a bit… strange." Then he yelped as his trinemate pinched the tip of his wing with a sharp glare.

"Not. Here," Thundercracker hissed lowly, glancing tellingly at the assorted mecha still wandering around nearby. Skywarp had the grace to look guilty and murmur an apology.

"Let's keep going," he said, properly chastened. Not that it would last very long. By the time they had reached the uncovered exit, Skywarp was back to his normal, chatty self.

The loading hatch was open, though he could clearly see signs of planetary debris littering the area outside the entryway. They stepped out of the ship together, and their sensors immediately began analyzing the new environment. It was a distinctly organic planet, absolutely coated with small, green organic growths that brushed oddly against the bottom of his feet. The soft ground sank slightly under his weight, and some of the delicate growths broke off, leaving oddly textured smears in his seams. Glancing back, he was surprised to find that the rest of the ship just disappeared into a large, natural mountain sticking up from the planetary crust. Well, slag. The crash must have taken them straight into the side of a cliff, of all things, and even if they did manage to gain control of the Ark it would take a stellar cycle at the least to free the ship. He sighed and turned back to the rest of the new planet.

They'd gotten lucky. Extraordinarily so. This was one of the most habitable planets he'd ever seen, with stable atmospheric conditions, a solid ground, and no immediately visible hazards. They'd likely have to be wary of any natives with such a seemingly harmless planet, but that was a minor problem compared to what could have been. He could already see some ridiculously tiny organics wandering around in the distance, though they looked to be the organic equivalent of drones instead of anything more sentient.

The clouds of moisture suspended in the atmosphere shifted farther away, and a glowing ball of heat blazed out from behind them, causing everyone to freeze as bright rays of light reflected off of their armor.

The planet had a _sun. _One close enough for the tickle of energy to spread across his plating, yet far enough away they wouldn't have to worry about its powerful radioactivity causing damage. Skyfire felt his plating loosen to expose more of his plating to the wonderful flux of energy, and the mecha around him did the same. Beside him, Skywarp murmured in contentment. They didn't have any of the modifications that would allow their frames to convert the light efficiently by any means, but what they could get was still enough to send a pleasant rush of energy across their sensor nets.

"I think I'm really going to like this planet," Skywarp murmured happily from beside him. "An open sky, free energy, and no Autobots to muck it all up. Could do without all the organic mess, but, hey, nothing's perfect."

They stood outside, lazing around and idly basking in the sunlight, as they waited for orders. More Decepticons trickled out of the ship to join them, and Skyfire counted off nearly all of the mecha from the Nemesis, including several Command Staff. The Constructicon gestalt had clumped at the far end of the group, and many had split into scattered groups. Nobody had left to explore the rest of the planet though.

They only straightened back to attention when a visibly fuming Megatron came stomping out of the Ark with Soundwave at his side. Immediately activating his anti-gravs, he flew towards the top edge of the cliff, and the rest of the Decepticons obediently followed. Megatron was waiting for them, staring coldly out at the gathering mecha.

"The Ark is useless to us," he growled, pacing along the edge of the cliff. He stopped in its center and faced them, his powerful form silhouetted against the strange blue sky. "We have been given a far greater prize, though," he continued loudly, making full use of his commanding voice. "This planet is rich in resources, and it will give us the resources we need to not only create a new ship but gather enough energy to return to Cybertron stronger than ever!"

He turned and took off into the sky with a rallying cry. The rest of the Decepticons, accessing their own anti-grav mods, followed with echoing shouts of victory and excitement.

Skyfire had already activated his thrusters and was about to follow when Skywarp paused and glanced back at the small orange piece of the Ark that was still visible. He hummed thoughtfully—a sound that immediately sent up red flags in both Skyfire and Thundercracker's processer. A thoughtful Skywarp was _not _a good, rule-following Skywarp, and that sound almost always led to trouble. The only good sign was that the rest of the Decepticons were already out of sight of whatever mischief the Seeker decided to pull.

"Skywarp…" Thundercracker growled in warning.

The other Seeker just grinned, optics bright with a familiar gleam of mischief.

Thundercracker groaned. "Skywarp, _no._" He didn't make a move to stop his trinemate though, just waited in the resigned, exasperated silence of a mech who knew when trying something was just plain futile.

The grin spread wider. Skywarp lifted up one of the integrated rifles along his arm and leveled it at the orange prow of the ship just barely sticking out of the mountain.

"Lighten up, TC," he teased.

Then he fired. The shot struck the head of the ship head on, warping the metal with its heat before being deflected into the surrounding mountainside. Clumps of the material were shaken loose from the force to fall heavily down on the Ark and surrounding area with satisfying thuds. Skywarp giggled and made as if to shoot the ship again, but this time Thundercracker stepped in and pushed the rifle down before it could be charged.

"You've had your fun," he said, his tone unusually serious. "Let's catch up with the rest before we lose them."

Skywarp huffed, though he obediently let the charge disperse. After a moment, Thundercracker released his wingmate's arm and stepped back. Skywarp immediately leapt into the air and transformed. His alt-mode was, oddly enough, different now—smoother and slightly smaller, with odd seams and structures. After the initial surprise passed, the Seeker moved to hover above their helms.

::Race ya there! :: he commed, the glyphs bright and cheerful with glee. Then he took off, speeding towards the distant clouds of moisture and the still-strong signals of the other Decepticons. Thundercracker shouted something uncomplimentary at his trinemate, but he still transformed to give chase. Skyfire followed at a more sedate pace, absentmindedly cataloguing the differences in his own new alt-mode, as he watched the two Seekers playing in the new atmosphere. Already, life was starting to look up again.

~.*.~

**AN**: A bit of a filler chapter, but it needed to happen. I hope nobody will mind if I skip over some canon stuff next chapter (I'm getting impatient for the next plot arc to get started), and this should be the last episode I go into any real depth on. Also, you… probably noticed that I tweaked quite a bit of background events from the original show. I watched the episode, and I honestly couldn't think of a way for the canonical leaving Cybertron scene to make sense in this, so I ended up creating my own.

So, apparently, The Victory is technically the name of the ship. It's just… not really mentioned in the actual show. Since it's such an obscure title, I'll probably just not use it and refer to it more generically when it comes up. We'll see. Also, for anyone wondering, Skyfire caught a falling Cliffjumper. No real reason, except I thought it was just a delightful mental image.


	11. Exploring Earth

Tangled Destiny

Chapter 11: Exploring Earth

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Skyfire hefted one of the large, finished metal beams down next to the bare framework of the new ship, groaning as the movement tugged against stressed parts. Over the past few orns, he'd barely had time to fix the major stasis-damage he'd found, and the energy-intensive work involved in building a new ship from scratch certainly hadn't helped. Then again, minor repairs, especially the time-consuming ones they would require, weren't even high on his priority list. He wanted to go home to Cybertron as quickly as possible, and the rest of the 'Cons seemed to agree with him.

He'd never seen the Constructicons at work before, but they'd definitely earned their famous reputation. Quicker than he'd thought possible, a basic frame for the new ship was set up and the more complex parts had begun construction. He wasn't even going to ask how they were developing the engines or hydraulics systems from the limited resources they'd collected, but he knew the mecha wouldn't let them leave the planet on a ship that would just fall apart around them. He could trust in Hook's perfectionism, if nothing else.

Soundwave and a handful of technicians were working on recreating the navigational equipment and databanks of the Nemesis, which had been helped by the unexpected volume of spare parts and datastorages Soundwave apparently carried in his subspace. Then again, he probably shouldn't have been surprised that Soundwave, as chief Communications Officer, carried extra copies of any important data with him, no matter how ridiculously large or unwieldy it was.

The rest of the crew was kept busy finding raw or imperfectly processed materials, molding them into something usable, and constructing the frame and circuitry for the ship that would take them back home. Skywarp had reported seeing a relatively advanced organic settlement on one of his flights, and he had let Skyfire take a look at the memory files when he'd asked. It had been absolutely _fascinating_. Organic lifeforms had always been unspeakably rare, particularly ones so advanced. They even had a nearly planet-wide online database and transmission channels with only very primitive encryption coding, which had allowed him to surreptitiously download the language files for the planet's dominant languages. If he only had the time… but he didn't, so he relegated any study of the organics to the few spare moments he could find. For now, he had to concentrate on the ship.

The familiar, piercing sound of a high-powered plasma bolt cut through the sounds of mecha working. Skyfire immediately felt battle protocols engage, all the more jarring for its completely unexpected activation. A plasma rifle shouldn't have been there. Its presence shouldn't have even been _possible._ Yet, as he turned towards the sound, his optics immediately focused on the unmistakable burn mark on a supports strut behind Megatron's helm. Somebody had fired on them.

Chaos erupted as Megatron reacted, spinning towards the source of the shot with a furious shout and brandishing his fusion cannon menacingly. Empty plains surrounded them for hics, but the land jutted up into small mountains just within range of a sniper. Megatron didn't bother wasting his energy charging his cannon; the mountain was well out of range of a normal weapon. Turning, he tersely ordered Soundwave to release his symbiont, and Laserbeak soon transformed and took off.

In the distance, a cloud of dust shot up as the two unmistakably Autobot mecha transformed and raced away, Laserbeak in close pursuit. Skyfire watched them disappear, processor whirling. How the slag had the Autobots onlined? They'd been _stasis locked _when they'd left and in the middle of fragging nowhere, where no curious organic could have wandered over and disturbed them. They couldn't have spontaneously onlined on their own. Something had to have woken them up after they'd left.

Skywarp's little game with the ship. The boulders falling on the Ark hard enough to shake it.

Had Skywarp…? No. _No. _He resolutely ignored that thread of thought, erasing it from the front of his processer. It had to have been the ship that had woken them up. The Ark wasn't a sparked ship, but it did have a highly sophisticated AI for a drone, and it had been working when they'd left the ship. Considering they'd never thought to offline the ship again after it had woken up, surely the AI had eventually started fixing the Autobots.

It was the right answer. The _only _possible answer.

The one that wouldn't get Skywarp outright deactivated if Megatron ever found out. He'd be sure to mention it to Thundercracker when he got the chance, in case Megatron started demanding answers.

After a few moments of everyone staring uneasily at the spot the Autobots had been, Megatron turned around and barked at them to continue working. They turned back to the half-finished ship, picking up tools and materials slightly more urgently than before, but Skyfire caught almost everyone sneaking glances back at the empty mountain.

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As the ship neared completion, gathering the energy to power it grew more important. They wanted to leave the foreign planet as quickly as possible, before the Autobots had enough time to successfully sabotage the ship. The Autobots had definitely returned—all of them, it felt like. Skywarp had certainly ranted enough about the entire Autobot Command Staff and what seemed like all of their Elites after each battle. The Autobots showed up at almost every single raid involving the organics, which was essentially all of them. They'd managed to harvest some smaller energy deposits the natives hadn't claimed, but that process was slower than stealing the pre-processed fuel from larger sources.

So Megatron would routinely take half the crew, thankfully never including him, across the continent towards areas with the highest energy concentrations. The excursions had already fallen into a fairly predictable pattern. Approximately halfway through the collection process, the Autobots would arrive and a battle would break out. Transport frametypes would load the raw energy for transportation as the rest of the 'Cons kept the Autobots at bay, and then they'd make their way back to the ship, where Skyfire, Hook, and one or two assistants would be waiting to repair the injuries they'd earned. As far as the war went, it was actually less work than he was used to. There were less mecha for him to fix, though the lack of medics meant he did occasionally have to work on one of the Command Staff—always a stressful experience.

Slowly but surely, their stockpiles of energon grew until there was only one successful raid between them and returning to Cybertron. The ship was very nearly space worthy, and Megatron took more mecha than usual on what would hopefully be their last energy raid. Meanwhile, Skyfire had been drafted into helping to comb over all the ship's databanks to make sure everything was running smoothly, without any fatal programming errors hidden in the many different components that went into interstellar travel. The process was slow, but they'd roped everyone with an inkling of technical knowledge into helping. At the rate they were going, it looked like they would have the ship ready for takeoff by the time the rest of the Elite returned.

Most of the sections were done, save for a few straggling technicians still checking the scanning equipment, when Skyfire heard the first stirrings of a commotion from outside. Without windows on the ship, Skyfire couldn't see what was happening, but he was close enough to the open cargo bay doors to get close enough for a look. The first thing to catch his optic was blaster fire—bright streaks of concentrated energy that immediately activated combat programs in his processer. He quickly focused on the familiar shapes of Decepticons as they approached the ship, energy cubes in tow. The Autobots were farther out and steadily advancing.

"Send a message to the Navigator that we need to start activating the engines," Skyfire said to one of the nearby technicians enraptured by the battle. "I get the feeling we're going to want to leave quickly."

Skyfire would have done it himself, but he didn't have the mech's frequency. One of the side effects of being a low-ranked mech just barely authorized for the mission. Snapping out of his surprise, the technician nearly sprinted back into the heart of the ship, com transmissions branching off rapidly to the rest of the ship. Skyfire stayed by the open entryway, watching the battle worriedly. He could make out Skywarp and Thundercracker exchanging shots with a cluster of Autobots on the side, and Megatron was in the middle matching the Prime blow for blow. It was the first time Skyfire had actually seen the newest Prime, and he was surprised by how skilled the mech actually was. The rumors hadn't been exaggerated.

The Decepticons slowly managed to work their way towards the ship until a short pause in the battle finally allowed them to break away and reach the loading ramp to the ship's main entrance. As soon as the ramp engaged, Skyfire stepped back to the far side of the room, where he wouldn't have to worry about catching the warriors' attention. Megatron was the first to enter, and he immediately started shouting orders at the technicians to prepare for launch. He took his place at the front of the Command Deck with the other Command Staff following close behind, leaving the rest of the Elites to disperse throughout the ship.

The powerful engines of the ship quickly rumbled to life underneath them, rushing through their activation and lifting the ship off the ground faster than was technically safe. It was worth it to know the Autobots would soon be disappearing behind them.

It was time to go home.

The Autobots might still be online, but they didn't have a ship and he doubted they'd be willing to take materials the way the Decepticons had. They would have a good stellar cycle at the least before the Autobots managed to dig out the Ark and perform necessary repairs, maybe even a vorn if the damage was as bad as Skyfire thought. More than enough time to clean up most of the war on Cybertron, and without an army the Autobot High Command wouldn't be much of a threat. Even with the setback of the Autobot's revival, they could still win the war.

But, of course, fate had to intervene.

Skyfire was waiting for Thundercracker to be released in one of the hallways outside the Command Deck when the first shot was fired. He burst into the room, weapon in his hand and prepared for almost anything, and chaos met him. The handful of mecha present were shouting over one another, evidence of blaster fire was scattered across the room, and the navigational array was in complete disarray. He just barely caught a glimpse of an Autobot—Mirage, his processer informed him, one of the more famous Autobot saboteurs—as the mech leaped out of one of the escape hatches.

Slag. If the mech was leaving and had dared reveal himself, then he must have already accomplished what he'd set out to do. He could already feel their Navigator losing control of the ship as it started shuddering haphazardly beneath them. They were crashing. _Again. _The navigational equipment was outright _on fire _now_, _and there was no way the weaker material could survive that. They'd already lost what little control of the ship they'd had left, and the ship soon started to spiral towards the ground.

They hit with a loud, frame-shaking thud strong enough to immediately send him crashing to his knees. Surprisingly, the ship held together through it—another nod to the Constructicon's skill. Skyfire slowly took to his feet again, stumbling slightly as one of his legs registered minor hydraulics damage. He was getting more error messages than he would have expected from a relatively minor crash like that—interstellar grade armor was remarkably durable—but he hadn't taken into account the degradation from their time in stasis. Then again, even a dozen megavorns or so shouldn't have weakened his armor so severely. He archived the line of thought, resolving to come back to it later.

As he steadied himself, it felt as if the ship was still somehow moving, though that was impossible. He reset his gyros, sure that the crash had jarred some internal sensors, but the sense of falling persisted. Then the ship actually tipped to the side a handful of degrees. No way _that_ was from a misfiring sensory cluster. Abruptly, he remembered there had been a large body of water stationed near the ship's construction site. They must have crashed into the liquid instead.

And now they were sinking. Fast. He could only hope that the waters on this planet didn't get too deep. Their frames and hopefully the weaker material of the ship would be strong enough to withstand the liquid pressure above their heads, but it would be an unpleasant journey back to land, to say the least. Particularly considering the damage any contaminants could do to the stasis-injuries they hadn't had the time to seal off or fix.

The ship finally hit the seabed with a gentler thud, though the metal above their heads creaked ominously for a few kliks before settling down under its new burden. They waited for a few terse moments to see if it would hold, which it thankfully did. At least the ship was intact, even if it was most certainly not flightworthy anymore. He glanced around the rest of the Command Deck, noting the mecha moving stiffly to their feet and sending apprehensive glances around them. All of them were focused on one spot, though nobody risked staring outright.

Megatron stood alone in the center of the Command Deck, the rest of the Decepticons having cleared away at the feel of the near-tangible fury surrounding him. He looked about half an astrosecond from snapping, and nobody, not even Soundwave, dared moving and risking drawing his wrath. His optics finally focused on Hook, and even the proud Commander flinched under that stare.

"Build us a way to reach the surface again," he ordered frighteningly calmly. Then he strode out of the room, silent and deadly as an acid storm. Even after the door slid closed behind him, nobody dared break the silence for a good breem.

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Trapped under an entire ocean on an alien planet with a dangerously enraged Megatron, nobody on the ship was happy. It was even worse than the cramped quarters of the Nemesis had been. At least then they hadn't been tiptoeing around the smoldering volcano that was Megatron's temper.

More than that, something about this planet made Skyfire… jittery. He couldn't put a finger on it, but something in the back of his processer just didn't like this planet. A whisper of memory breathed against the back of his consciousness, and for once he stopped to focus on it. He recognized this quadrant from somewhere. The colors, the atmospheric conditions… organic-based planets were rare, and he'd only ever been on a handful of them, all of which had vastly different elemental compositions. As his memory banks made the connection, Skyfire felt his systems stutter in shock and his spark run cold in horror. Impossible… It _had_ to be impossible.

One of the unfamiliar technicians was supervising the main data terminal, the one that Soundwave had replicated from the Nemesis's datastorage. It would have the Academy's records of the explored universe, including the ones Skyfire had documented himself. If he was right… Well, he would deal with that then. He prayed he wouldn't have to.

Only the megavorns of experience he had in concealing his emotions kept his vocalizer steady as he spoke. "What is the planet's designation?"

The technician started at the sound of his voice and craned his head upward to meet his gaze. Nervousness flickered in his optics for a moment at his size, but it calmed as the mech recognized him as one of the closest things to a non-combatant the Decepticons had. He turned back to the screen, rummaging through the data files for a moment before answering.

"Commander Soundwave recently identified the planet's location relative to Cybertron. We're on the fringes of the documented universe, a planet with the Iaconian designation of UCO-S8529-765-3," the mech said, glancing up at him with curiosity he didn't voice.

Skyfire ignored him. There was no mistaking that designation—he'd added it to the databanks himself. This was the planet.

Skyfire returned to his quarters in a daze. He heard himself murmur the customary pleasantries as he left, saw himself walk unfalteringly down the corridors, but his processer was hundreds of thousands of vorns away from his frame. Of all the trillions of planets, millions of star systems, they had managed to crash on the one place he'd been trying to wipe from his memory banks for eons. How bitterly ironic.

The walk back to his quarters was filled with memory echoes of empty, unchanging ice and howling wind that screamed painfully against his frame. He relieved the moment their Bond broke over and over, the fear and panic and sudden, horrible silence. No wonder his spark hadn't stopped aching since he'd arrived, though it hadn't built into a full episode yet. Time had dulled the broken bond's sharp edges, but the scar from Starscream's death would never fade. His spark gave a brief, echoing pang at the thought, and he had to force himself not to react visibly. Even now, he couldn't let himself show weakness.

When he finally reached his assigned quarters, Skyfire entered silently, without even bothering to access the lights. He sat on the edge of the berth, rested his helm in his hands, and tried very, very hard not to think.

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Eventually, Skyfire's silent vigil was interrupted. Light bled into the room as the door hissed open, and Skyfire could hear the light scuff of a ped against the floor. He didn't look up. For a few kliks of silence, the mech stayed at the door, just looking in. Then the lights flickered on, and the footsteps moved slowly forward until the berth jostled slightly under the weight of another frame.

"Skyfire?" It was Skywarp. His voice sounded uncharacteristically serious and was flecked with concern, but it was unmistakable. "What's going on?"

For several long moments, Skyfire didn't answer. Then, finally, he lifted his head up and looked at the Seeker. For once, he didn't half to look down. He was folded in on himself so much that they were almost optic to optic, Skywarp's worried gaze so very close to his own. The Seeker was frowning in concern, and his wings were drooping with it. Skyfire could almost hear the silent conversation that had to be going on over the trinebond. He'd be surprised if Skywarp hadn't called Thundercracker over for support.

He didn't want to do this. Didn't want to see the shock and pain that would come when the two Seekers learned just what had happened on this planet so many vorns ago. Starscream's deactivated frame was likely still there. Nothing on this planet was harsh enough to erode a Cybertronian frame, not even a brittle, deactivated one. The ice might have even preserved his frame from degradation—a painful parody of true life.

"Skyfire?" Skywarp repeated. He fidgeted, systems whining loudly as he tried to keep still, under Skyfire's unfocused gaze, and glanced back at the now closed door. Thundercracker must be getting close

Skyfire couldn't look at him when he finally began. "This is the place," he said blankly, optics firmly focused on the wall in front of them.

Skywarp frowned and leaned closer until the edges of their frames touched, offering what comfort he could. "What place?" he asked. Even without visual, Skyfire could easily imagine Skywarp's confused gaze.

"Where it happened. Where we crashed."

Skywarp's cooling fans stopped for a moment in realization, then whirled frantically to life as a shocked, pained whine escaped him. Skyfire ignored it, and he couldn't stop the flow of words.

"Isn't it ironic?" He let out a dark, humorless laugh—a toneless sound that echoed unpleasantly in the quiet room. "What were the chances? Hundreds of thousands of vorns trying to forget this planet even existed, and it's the one in billions that we managed to get trapped on. Though I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised—I was the one to mark this planet as having vast stockpiles of untapped energy after all. "

Skywarp was silent. Unable to help himself, Skyfire finally glanced over at his companion. The Seeker was completely still, face still slack in shock. Emotion had darkened his optics to a deep, painful burgundy, and cooling systems were working overtime to calm his strained systems. His hands were still shaking with false signals born from overstressed circuitry. Skyfire felt the urge to reach over and comfort the smaller flier, but he couldn't force numb arms to move.

They were interrupted when the door suddenly slammed open, metal screeching as gears were forced to move faster than their design allowed. Thundercracker burst into the room with his systems audibly humming and partially charged weapons online. Skywarp barely even looked up at their sound. Their trinebond—Thundercracker would have been able to feel every emotion that blasted through Skywarp's processer, and Skyfire doubted the Seeker would have recovered enough to articulate the cause of his grief to his frantic trinemate.

Thundercracker stilled when he fully came in. His optics darted around the room for a threat before settling on his trinemate in confusion. With no danger detected, he slowly allowed his combat programing to fade and charged weapons to cool down. With an uncomprehending look at the two, he joined them on the berth and started tracing soothing circles along the younger Seeker's wings.

Skyfire could see the minute changes in Thundercracker's stance as he opened his spark more fully to their bond. Skywarp leaned into him and calmed marginally at the contact, but the elder Seeker's worried optics never wavered from the younger's as he mentally coaxed him into an explanation.

Even without being able to hear the conversation, Skyfire could see the exact moment that Skywarp told his Trinemate what he knew. Thundercracker suddenly stiffened. His head jerked up, shockingly bright optics drilling into him at the news. Skyfire nodded silently, knowing what he was being asked. Thundercracker's optics dimmed as he processed the information, and his arm tightened around his remaining Trinemate. His mouth opened then closed again without making a sound, and his entire frame shuddered.

"His frame's still on this planet," Skywarp said softly. He pushed himself out of Thundercracker's arm and looked beseechingly up at them. "If we can find him, we could finally give him a _true _burial."

Skyfire's processer skipped at the thought. He'd spent so long trying to get a team together to recover his frame back on Cybertron only to be stopped by the reality of the energon crisis. It had always been one of his greatest regrets—failing to retrieve his partner's frame had been a betrayal of his memory, and he knew it had hurt the Seekers even if they'd never blamed him for it.

"Megatron would never authorize it," Thundercracker said immediately. He tightened his grip on the younger Seeker. "Pit, he'd probably throw us all on punishment duty just for suggesting we waste energon on something so sentimental."

"_Megatron _doesn't have to know," Skywarp entreated with growing animation. He straightened up, his optics lightening to a more normal color as his tactical processer engaged over the problem. "We could do it ourselves. Go on our off shift when nobody's looking at us."

It was an intoxicating idea. For a moment, Skyfire let the fantasy wash over him. He could picture himself finding Starscream's frame after failing all those vorns ago. In the fantasy, Starscream's frame had been preserved almost perfectly by the ice, as if Skyfire had managed to find him those orns he'd spent searching so long ago. They'd be able to give him a flyers burial in the sky where he was meant to be. But it was just a moment, and he couldn't ignore reality for long. The dream only made having to turn down the idea all the more difficult.

"Skywarp," Skyfire interrupted.

Skywarp stumbled into silence at the unusually somber tone, staring at him with optics bright with confusion. The brief stutter didn't stop him for long. His voice took on an almost frantic quality as he continued. "It's not like we're really needed for anything other than the raids. Megatron barely even comes out of his quarters anyway, and nobody would really miss us if we're not wandering around the ship on our off-shift."

"Skywarp, it won't work," Skyfire repeated stronger, and this time the Seeker's voice died down. Skyfire looked at him sadly, wishing the Seeker could be right even as he prepared to shoot the idea down. "We're stuck in a ship in the middle of the ocean—it's not _possible _to get out without Megatron knowing. You couldn't even warp far enough to get out of the scanner's range."

Skywarp shrugged, feigning nonchalance even as Skyfire could see the distress growing in his optics. "So we'll go when he lets us out to fly. We're _Seekers. _He knows we have to get out every couple orbital cycles. We'll just fly there then and get back before he can figure out we went farther than usual."

It was almost physically painful to keep denying him, but Skyfire had no choice. "We still wouldn't have enough time. It would take at least a megacycle to get there, even at your top speed. Even if you could get authorization to stay out of the Nemesis that long, we barely even know where to look."

He'd spent orns looking for Starscream before lack of energon had forced him away and had found nothing. Now, so many megavorns later, finding him would be even more difficult. The organic planet's surface was inherently unstable, and his frame had undoubtedly been moved by its natural tectonic rhythm over the millennia. With enough time and equipment, they could find him. Pit, he would spend _vorns _looking if that was what it took, but they just didn't have the time. Not now. Probably not until the war was over.

He hated seeing the hope fade from Skywarp's optics as reality finally started to sink in. "But… we're so close," Skywarp said, voice starting to waver. "We can't just _leave _him there. It's _Starscream._"

Thundercracker tugged his trinemate closer against his side as he spoke up again. "He wouldn't want us to risk out sparks for a shell," he stated quietly.

Skywarp looked between the other two for a moment before letting out a low, miserable whimper and curling into his trinemate's side. They didn't try to speak again. Everything that needed to be said already had, and they all knew what it would cost them. For once, the two Seekers didn't head back to their quarters as the night wore on. Skyfire was grateful for the company.

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Living on Earth changed things. More than he'd expected. For one, they were surprisingly isolated from the rest of the armies, even after the Space bridge to Cybertron became operational. The fighting had, predictably, come to a standstill in their absence, with mecha more focused on synthesizing enough energon to survive than charging into battle. Shockwave had managed to maintain control over the largest remaining energon production machinery, though the Autobots still held several smaller sites. Meanwhile, the war had devolved into a series of minor raids and skirmishes dispersed with long periods of inaction.

He'd been… stunned to learn exactly how much time had passed. Even by their standards, almost a hundred thousand vorns was an incredibly long time. No wonder their frames had started to degrade from neglect and inactivity; it was a wonder their sparks had survived at all after so long in stasis. Their sparks and frames were resilient, but, without energon, they could only take so much. It terrified him to think of how close they'd all come to deactivation.

Due to their close quarters with the Autobot command on Earth, battles quickly became far more common. They'd once gone metacycles or even vorns between major battles, but now it seemed hardly an orn passed between each clash. They were always busy in the med-bay, not just repairing damage but preparing and creating much needed parts as well.

Skyfire didn't mind. In fact, he all but thew himself into the work, trying to keep himself too busy to dwell on old memories. He was grateful when Megatron assigned him a new task on top of his old duties—synthesizing new energon from the planet so they weren't so dependent on the raids for fuel. The planet was rich enough in natural resources so it wasn't too much of a challenge compared to his old expeditions, but the lack of resources Megatron allotted him was enough to make it interesting.

He'd managed to set up a few basic solar energy collecting sites along the deserted stretches of land near the ship. They collected enough energy to keep most of the base functioning, though not enough to make life comfortable or help rebuild Cybertron. For that, they needed the raids. Despite all the energy resources the planet held, actually gaining control of them seemed almost as difficult here as it had back on Cybertron. The Autobots always managed to interrupt their raids, preventing them from finishing draining the resources and often dispersing the energy they'd already collected in the process. It was enough to set the entire ship on edge after every retreat.

Without the fighters, the base always seemed quiet. Skyfire was using the free time to finish up delicate repairs to the sensor net of a detached arm from one of the injured Elite. He'd nearly managed to finish rewiring the last section when he received a ping from Hook ordering him to come to the loading bay. The fighters had returned, and there were injuries. If Hook was actually asking for his assistance, then that meant there had to be a lot of them. Another loss, then. The only good thing about being stuck on this planet was that nobody had the resources or facilities to make any of the truly deadly weapons, so at least deactivations were rare.

He reached the loading bay just in time to watch the docking tower spiraling back down into the main ship. Taking his place slightly behind Hook, he waited for the bay doors to open and reveal the rest of the Decepticons. Some were carrying glowing cubes of the imperfectly refined energon, but there were less of them than he would have expected and more mecha cradling moderate damage. Megatron was the first one out of the tower. He was visibly furious as he faced the rest of the returning Decepticons—a very, very bad sign. The raid must have gone even worse than he'd assumed.

"Report," Megatron ordered lowly, face a blank mask hiding a slow burning rage. His voice carried easily across the dead silent room.

A nervous ripple spread through the returning Decepticons as Megatron's gaze swept over them. Nobody stepped forward. Megatron's blazing optics finally stopped, seemingly at random, on Thundercracker. The Seeker's wings twitched, the only sign of how uneasy he had to be at the attention. He doubted the grounders even noticed the slight movement.

When he spoke, Thundercracker's voice was as composed as always. "The Autobots mobilized quicker than we'd expected," he started, speaking with a carefully calculated mix of strength and subservience. "The energon collection process began as predicted, but we were unable to synthesis enough energon before the fight began, though our forces were able to delay them for several more breems. When the Autobot reinforcements arrived, we-"

"How much energon did we collect?" Megatron interrupted harshly.

Thundercracker hesitated. His wings flinched again. Megatron took three steps forward that put him directly in front of the Seeker. Thundercracker had to crane his neck upward to meet their Leader's optics, which only emphasized the dramatic size and strength difference between the two. The Seeker nearly stepped back at the threatening movement, but he caught himself before betraying that weakness.

"_How much!_" Megatron bellowed. The entire room flinched at the sound.

"About twenty kilo units of fuel," Thundercracker answered quietly.

Scrap. It was barely half of what they'd been expecting to get. And from the look of it, enough mecha had been damaged that they wouldn't be able to run another raid for at least an orn. They wouldn't be able to send any energon to Cybertron this cycle. They'd be lucky if they could keep everyone on full rations until the next raid.

Thundercracker shifted nervously under Megatron's continuing attention. His optics flickered at the other Elite and Commanders, but none of them stepped forward to help him. The silence grew longer.

"Commander, I-" Thundercracker finally began as the silence became too much.

Megatron hit him.

Thundercracker's helm snapped backwards as he was backhanded across his face. The powerful force sent him stumbling backwards, nearly falling over as his balance faltered. Megatron followed him step for step, armor tight and frame tense in anger. Thundercracker stumbled back upright, optics bright with shock.

Skyfire was rooted to the floor. The room was dead silent. For all that Megatron had done, he'd never publicly damaged any of his soldiers unless they were traitors or so incompetent they might as well have been. Common soldiers were beneath him, and ranked mecha had at least earned the dignity of a private punishment. This was different—frighteningly so . And Thundercracker was caught in the middle of it.

"Where was my Air Force!" Megatron roared.

"Sir, the Twins were-"

Megatron hit him again. A punch that landed in the center of Thundercracker's cockpit, cracking the glass and forcing a startled shout of pain from the Seeker. Thundercracker fell to one knee, his arm cradling the painful new wound. It was a moment before he could push himself back upright, frame starting to shake from the error messages.

"No excuses!" Megatron growled. "You're failure _cost us the battle!_"

With that, Megatron seemed to lose what little self-control had been holding him back. Ignoring Thundercracker's stumbling attempts at an explanation, Megatron continued hitting him. Glancing blows to his helm and chest intermixed with harder, painful hits to his chest and arms, denting his plating and rupturing minor energon lines. Skyfire watched anxiously for any sign of charge gathering for a weapon, but Megatron seemed determined to use only his fists. Thundercracker didn't dare try to defend himself. The most he could do was roll with the punches slightly and attempt to reduce the damage.

Across the room, Skywarp started to push past the mecha in front of him to reach his trinemate—to do what, Skyfire didn't know—but he was stopped by another Seeker beside him. The mech hissed at him furtively for a few kliks, and he somehow managed to convince Skywarp to stay put. Good. If they tried to interfere, they'd only make Megatron angrier and the punishment worse for all of them. There was nothing they could do.

It was the only reason Skyfire could force himself to stay still as the punishment wore on.

Skyfire wanted to push past the mecha between him and Thundercracker and pull the Seeker away from their Leader. His interstellar-grade armor would bear the blows better than the thin, flight-oriented plating of a Seeker anyway.

He wanted Skywarp to grab his trinemate and teleport them both far, far away from Megatron and his overflowing anger, to wait the worst of his temper out and return when he was thinking clearly again.

He didn't do either because he _knew _they would all just make the situation worse.

When Megatron went for Thundercracker's wings, his fingers leaving deep gouges in the thin, sensitive metal, Skyfire couldn't watch anymore. He averted his optics from the Seeker and the small, growing puddle of energon surrounding him. The rest of the Decepticons still stood in silent rows on the other side of the room, watching. A few, mainly flyers or other Seekers, had averted their optics as well, but none dared move. Many of them had started shifting uncomfortably as the punishment stretched on, and Skyfire could see unease peeking through the unaffected facades they all wore.

Skyfire didn't fool himself into thinking they were worried about Thundercracker. As far as Commanders went, the Seeker was a good one and had earned the reluctant respect of many of the lower ranked, but none of them would have spared him a thought if he'd been near-deactivated in battle, save for how it would have affected base politics. No, the only reason they were uneasy was because Megatron was beating the slag out of his Air Commander—a mech he'd personally chosen to be one of the most valuable soldiers in his army.

And if Megatron decided that a High Commander could be publicly beaten after a failed raid, then who would it be next time?

Megatron couldn't have forgotten that Thundercracker was indispensable as Air Commander. He wouldn't deactivate him, and even if he tried Skywarp would 'port him away and slag the consequences if his trinemate's spark was in danger. Anything less than that could be repaired. Skyfire just needed to remember that.

It felt like an eternity before Megatron finally stopped. Thundercracker was nearly offline, barely even flinching under the blows anymore. Megatron stood over him, armor flared out aggressively and vents whirring loudly. Then he turned and, without a word, stalked away, still visibly simmering with a fury that was nonetheless lessened from what it had been before the beating. The Decepticons between him and the door nearly fell over themselves scrambling out of his way.

As soon as the door snapped closed, cutting Megatron out of view, Skywarp was by his trinemate's side. He keened softly at the damage and reached out to stem the flow of energon from one of the deeper cuts. Skyfire had joined him within half a klik. He immediately accessed Thundercracker's medical port and applied a strong sensor-blocking code in case the Seeker woke up. He hoped he wouldn't. Enough damage had been dealt that even the repressive coding wouldn't be able to suppress all the pain. They both ignored the way the rest of the Decepticons immediately filed out of the room, murmuring among themselves

When he was sure movement wouldn't increase the damage, Skyfire carefully lifted the Seeker off the floor, careful not to jostle his wounds or even touch the exquisitely sensitive, damaged sensors of his wings. Consciously or not, Megatron had avoided doing any damage that would have threatened Thundercracker's spark or processer—one of the few mercies he'd shown. Skyfire would still need access to the med-bay and its tools to fix the more extensive injuries.

As they made the journey to the med-bay, they passed few mecha in the hallways and even fewer that were willing to meet their optics. The entire ship seemed subdued, lacking the normal rambunctious clamor of warriors still battle-charged with excess energy. Skyfire caught glimpses of small clumps of mecha muttering furtively, though none spoke loud enough for him to overhear.

Other injured mecha were clustered in and around the med-bay, and Hook was muttering loudly as he worked on the more severely damaged. He glanced at them as they entered, then returned to his patient without saying anything. Skyfire took the Seekers into one of the few private rooms branching off of the med-bay so they wouldn't have to endure the stares.

Neither of them spoke as he worked, taking the familiar tools out of storage and starting the long process of repairing the damage. Skywarp sat on the edges of Thundercracker's berth as close as he could get to his trinemate without being in the way. He stared numbly at the damage, one hand lightly tracing the new weld marks crawling up one half-repaired thruster.

"It wasn't even his fault," Skywarp finally said, speaking for the first time since they'd brought Thundercracker into the med-bay. "The Twins attacked me, and TC came to help. And then some other Autobot grounders showed up, and we got tied up making sure the Autobots didn't cut off the escape route. If we hadn't, then they'd have just surrounded us and we wouldn't of even gotten away with the energon we did." One hand dug into the metal berth below him, nearly denting the dense metal. "It wasn't our fault we slagging lost. It _wasn't._"

"I know."

Thundercracker was too experienced a fighter to get distracted by an enemy and forget about the rest of the battle. Pit, he'd even helped create the tactics for the flyers, and he wouldn't have altered the strategy without a good cause. Thundercracker had become Air Commander for a reason. He'd maintained his position for megavorns by becoming irreplaceable as a Commander, both in battle and out of it. Now this happened.

The war needed to end soon, or at least leave Earth. The stress of the constant fighting, the continuing setbacks and defeats… It was dangerous. More so than he'd thought. If this kept up… he didn't know what they would do. Maybe next time it would be a different mech, but Thundercracker had too much responsibility to stay out from under Megatron's notice for very long. It was only a matter of time.

~.*.~

**AN**: And this is the last of the filler/setup before the beginning of the plot arc that started this story. So exciting. I tried to go quickly through events directly from the show since we all already know the basics, though I couldn't ignore them entirely. Still, this was fun to write, and I got to explore some of the changes resulting from Starscream's absence. The defeat referenced this chapter isn't based on any actual episode—I didn't think it was important enough to be worth the amount of time searching through the episodes would have taken.


	12. Further Complications

Tangled Destiny

Ch. 12: Further Complications

* * *

><p>…<p>

Skyfire hated battles. He really did.

He wasn't stupid enough to flaunt it, but he hadn't done much to hide his distaste for the fights either. They were violent, chaotic affairs that left too many mecha deactivated or nearly so; a useless waste of lives and resources that had torn Cybertron to shreds and collapsed entire cities. Skyfire had seen enough of what battles were from the recordings that warriors brought back and from the aftermath he dealt with in the med-bay. He would have happily gone the rest of his existence without experiencing one firsthand.

Unfortunately, Megatron had decided otherwise. Which was why Skyfire found himself lining up with the other Elite as they prepared to take off. Thundercracker and Skywarp were in the front of the pack with the other Officers, and Skyfire focused on them, doing his best to block out the worry and uneasy anticipation that held his plating tight against his frame. The two Seekers were calm, confident in their abilities and in the routine of the raids, though Skyfire did see a hint of worry in the quick glances they occasionally sent him. Megatron took off first, leading the way East, and the rest followed.

The newest raid was on a relatively well protected chemical storage facility, where rumor had it the organics stored a rare, vital compound Megatron needed for his newest superweapon. If Soundwave's intelligence was to be trusted, then this group of organics was one of the few that had managed to correctly synthesis it.

Normally, the details of Megatron's latest scheme wouldn't have concerned Skyfire much, but this time Soundwave had been unable to uncover where in the facility the chemical was stored or even its local designation. So Megatron had decided that Skyfire, as their only experienced scientist, would have better luck figuring out which chemical was correct. It was a… flimsy reason, to say the least—Skyfire could likely have thrown together a device capable of detecting the right chemical signature and a smaller mech could navigate the natives' complex far easier—but he hadn't dared argue. If Megatron wanted him to be involved in the raid, then that was what he would do. Period.

Skyfire consoled himself with the fact that it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Megatron could have easily ordered him into the actual battle or to the frontlines to make him earn his keep. Besides, Soundwave had at least managed to use the records and movements of the organic scientists to deduce which building the chemical was stored in. It wasn't much, but it at least gave him a place to start his search.

It took almost half a cycle of flying before the stunted structures of the organic research station came into view. The miniature organics were already streaming out of the building in large clumps. Some of the tension coiled in his chest released at the sight—even though they were organics, he still felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of damaging them.

Most of the Decepticons touched down a short distance away from the structures. The attack would double as an energy raid, so a number of the Decepticons broke off in the direction of the main building, where an energy-rich mineral was produced. The last of the organics were disappearing in their metal contraptions as they entered, though some had undoubtedly lingered to send out a transmission to the Autobots. They always did.

One of the Elite—a tank frame—blasted a hole in the wall of the larger building where the mineral was synthesized. Most of the rest of the group followed him inside, and Skyfire spotted a few mecha starting to carry storage cubes of the substance out to the ones waiting outside. Skyfire barely managed to reach the warehouse Soundwave had identified before the transmission that Autobots were starting to approach went out. Slag. The Autobots were moving quicker than they'd expected.

Skyfire quickly ducked inside the warehouse, which was just barely large enough for him to enter. It was a close fit and he had to stoop uncomfortably low so the ceiling didn't scrape his head, but he could still stand mostly upright. Long stacks of chemicals and compounds pressed in on him on the sides. His rifle was a heavy weight in his subspace, and he debated taking the weapon out for a moment before deciding against it. It would only slow him down, and right now speed would be his best defense.

He started with the containers closest to the entrance. His atmospheric sensors were calibrated as highly as they could go. Faint traces of different chemicals permeated the air through the sealed containers, barely concentrated enough for his scanners to pick up, and he made his way slowly across the row. Most of the compounds were relatively simple mixtures, though a handful of more complex, unstable substances were mixed in. Nothing truly dangerous, but Skyfire made a note to himself to avoid knocking anything over.

He paused as the loud engines of a jet roared overhead for a brief moment. If he focused, he could make out the clatter of weaponry already, and it was getting louder. Scrap. The fighting was moving closer, and he was running out of time. He needed to work faster.

One of the containers halfway through the warehouse grabbed the attention of his scanners, and he paused in front of it. Pricking open the very top, he took a few drops of the viscous liquid for a more thorough analysis. He sighed as he got the results. Close, but the composition was just slightly off. He kept moving. It was a good sign that he was in the right place and getting closer to the right compound, and he wanted to finish this as quickly as possible.

He froze as one of the walls on the far side of the building seemed to explode inward with an earthshaking crash of clashing metal and breaking wood. A blur of light green and white—Autobot colors, he noticed in horror—collided with one of the carefully organized stacks of chemicals. They came tumbling down around him, half-burying the mech in a spray of small metal canisters. Many of the containers cracked or shattered on impact, leaving the mech sitting in a growing puddle of fluid. A loud groan followed by a muffled curse drifted away from the pile of liquid and metal.

After a moment, the mech shifted, making the rubble clatter loudly as if fell off him. He pushed himself up with a muffled curse, rubbing the new dents marring his plating. The mech was a slightly larger than average grounder—probably a holocar of some sort. The Autobot symbol was bright on his chest, and his weapons were still out and ready for use. For the moment, his attention was still focused outside, where the rest of the battle still raged.

Back in his corner of the warehouse, Skyfire didn't dare make a sound. He offlined his cooling system, locked his joints, and silenced every system that made even a hint of noise. His rifle was still subspaced, and he didn't dare move to take it out. Trying to charge his inbuilt weapons would be even more obvious. Irrationally, he hoped that, maybe, if he didn't draw attention to himself, the Autobot wouldn't notice him. Skyfire really did not want to get involved in the fight. Particularly without his weaponry ready.

Something cold and unpleasantly thick touched the bottom of his foot, leaking through the seams of his plating to coat internal circuitry and burning unpleasantly where it touched him. Skyfire automatically flinched away and looked down to find that the puddle of chemicals had grown, spreading across the flooring until a thin layer had coated most of the ground. More continued to leak steadily out of the broken containers.

Skyfire silently cursed. Most of the compounds were flammable. The jumbled mixture on the floor almost certainly was. Pit, it had to be unstable enough they were lucky a stray spark hadn't already forced a dangerous reaction. Slag. The whole situation had just grown even worse. He doubted any resulting blaze would be dangerous enough to deactivate them—their critical systems were reinforced far past the point where they could be destroyed by almost anything on the organic planet—but the rest of their systems weren't nearly as protected. At the very least it would melt the delicate weave of their sensor nets and likely sections of their energon and hydraulic lines as well. The error messages alone would likely offline their processers if the damage was bad enough—not something anyone wanted in the middle of battle.

Another canister burst with a loud pop of breaking metal as the Autobot took a step towards the new hole in the wall, optics still focused completely on the outside. He looked almost ready to run back out and rejoin the battle, and Skyfire felt the barest trickle of hope that he might actually be lucky enough to avoid a confrontation. Then the Autobot glanced back—just a quick, almost automatic flicker of his optics, but it was enough.

The mech's optics snapped towards him, optics blazing as combat programming immediately came to full power. He pointed his weapon directly at him. Skyfire automatically took a half-step backwards and froze at the telltale sound of a charging weapon filled the air. The slippery liquid under his foot reminded him of another reason why starting a fight right then was a bad idea.

"Don't shoot!" Skyfire shouted, freezing in place. For a moment, it looked like the Autobot might actually listen. He kept his blaster trained on him—right over his spark, Skyfire noticed with a pang of trepidation—but thankfully seemed hesitant to fire on an unarmed opponent. Skyfire took advantage of his uncertainty.

"The chemicals," he said quickly, doing his best to ignore the weapon focused on him. "A stray shot could set them off, and I don't know how powerful the explosion would be."

The grounder stared at him suspiciously, but Skyfire caught his optics darting down at the puddles of fluid under their feet. Good. Any mech with a half-functioning processer would know how dangerous igniting an unknown mix of chemicals could be. If they could just get out of the warehouse, then he would be… well, not out of danger by any means, but at least facing better options. His armor should be thick enough to survive at least one shot, and the Autobot wouldn't be able to get off more than that before he'd be able to transform into his faster, better shielded alt mode. He just needed to convince the Autobot to let them both move outside first.

He opened his mouth to suggest they bring the fight away from the hazardous chemicals when he was interrupted by the sound of another mech landing nearby, scraps of wood and metal breaking loudly under his feet. Skyfire barely had time to recognize the mech as another Decepticon, likely the one who'd sent the Autobot through the wall in the first place. The Autobot jerked at the sound, head turning to face the new threat. His hand lurched as well and, by accident or intent, his fingers pressed down on the trigger.

Skyfire automatically dove to the side to avoid the bolt of energy. Wood and metal collapsed under his frame as he collided with another storage rack, but he was quick enough to avoid the worst of the blast. The bolt ricocheted off the thick plating of his shoulder, leaving a long, painful burn and a deep dent, at the same time his other arm was drenched in the fluid he'd rammed into.

Metal warped and seared as the redirected energy bolt collided with the building's wall, dispersing the remaining energy in one long pulse. As he watched, the threads of energy leapt onto the chemicals now coating the floor and his side. Skyfire had half a moment to thank Primus for the heat resistance of interstellar-grade armor. Then the spark took, and fire blazed across the room. The unnatural heat was strong enough to send dozens of error messages racing across his processor and pain blaring across his sensor net as minor circuitry and tubing began collapsing. Familiar protocols sprang to life, and Skyfire felt his armor shift and tighten to protect what it could. He staggered away from the more intense center, towards the edge where the fire hadn't had a chance to spread.

Then the flames reached one of the still standing racks, snaking up the spatters of fluid on the metal rungs. The impressive explosion that resulted physically lifted Skyfire off the ground and sent him crashing through the wall behind him. He had just enough time to catch sight of the overcast sky above him and feel the contrast of the almost painfully cool air before his processor blacked out under the strain.

* * *

><p>…<p>

When Skyfire onlined, he couldn't move.

He frowned in confusion, tugging gently on his arms. Something heavy was holding them in place, his lower body as well, but he felt strangely disconnected from his own mind. His processer was slow, lethargic, and his thoughts seemed to scatter haphazardly whenever he tried to organize them into something coherent. He wondered vaguely if he'd been injured. His disjointed processer felt as if he'd had somebody riffling through his coding, perhaps as the result of a medical stasis from damage. Something felt off though, wrong, and Skyfire shifted restlessly as he tried to force his uncooperative processer to work. Then he froze as memory clicked into place.

Megatron's unexpected orders. The warehouse and the unstable chemicals housed within it. The explosion. Slag, he hadn't even gotten the chemical. It had undoubtedly blown up with the warehouse, and who knew when the organics would synthesis more. Megatron was going to slag him for this.

Skyfire hesitantly accessed the feed for the arm that had taken the heaviest damage, expecting to find reports detailing the severe damage it'd taken. When a mecha displeased him, Megatron often started their punishment by refusing to let Hook treat them. To his surprise, the reports he scrolled through indicated the limb had been almost completely repaired. Strange. _Very _strange. He cut back the line of thought suggesting Megatron needed him repaired for whatever new punishment he'd devised. Megatron had certainly become… _harsher _in his punishments since landing on Earth, but he was usually more straightforward than that. Most of the higher ranked Decepticons had been subjected to Megatron's mercurial temper since arriving on Earth, but Skyfire had managed to escape punishment due to his low rank and the general disinterest surrounding his work. Until this.

After checking the rest of the frame, which had also been mostly repaired, Skyfire hesitantly onlined his optics. His first instinct was to check for Skywarp or Thundercracker, but to his surprise they weren't there. Nobody was—the room was empty. The second thing he noticed was that this was _not _his med-bay. The walls around him were a painfully intense shade of orange, and the layout was completely unfamiliar. It was clearly some sort of med-bay, filled with several familiar medical machines far out of his reach and the faint, underlying scents of sterilized metal and old energon, but he'd never seen any of it before in his life.

Fear blasted through his processer, sharpening his awareness and instinctively causing him to jerk against the restraints holding him down. It was useless—his limbs only reacted sluggishly to his commands, and the bindings pinning him to the berth didn't give an inch. He was trapped. Optics darting wildly around the room, a bright flash of red caught his optics. Etched into the side of the larger machines were several unmistakable Autobot symbols.

Slag.

_Slag._

He'd been captured_. _

For almost a full breem, panic overwhelmed him. He was an Autobot prisoner, tied up and alone in the center of their main flagship. He'd spent the last megavorns hearing horror stories of what happened to low-ranked mecha when the Autobots got their hands on them. No matter how strongly they preached morality, they were at war. The 'Bots wouldn't have survived as long as they had if they didn't know how to run the more distasteful operations. Pit, despite their self-proclaimed righteousness, they were no less violent than the 'Cons in a fight. He couldn't count how many times he'd fixed the jagged wounds on Thundercracker or Skywarp after a normal battle with the Twins.

Skywarp and Thundercracker. He hoped they were alright. He doubted they'd been captured or seriously injured during the fighting—they were too good for that—but they would be almost frantic with worry once they realized what had happened. Hopefully they wouldn't do anything too foolish. Thundercracker would likely try to convince Megatron to bargain for his return, but it wouldn't work. Megatron only considered bargaining for his most important soldiers, of which Skyfire was most certainly not. He would be on his own. _Scrap._

When nothing immediately changed, Skyfire forced himself to calm. Panicking wouldn't help him. Instead, he started to run an internal diagnostic on all his systems—one of the few things he could still do. He hadn't noticed it before, but now that he knew to look he could tell that it had definitely _not _been Commander Hook moving through his processer. The coding style was different; a more elegant, precise signature instead of the rough, quick patches Hook favored. When he traced the marks of the foreign code back, Skyfire could even feel the faint damage to his firewalls that meant the mech hadn't had the right access codes.

Somebody had forced their way into his processer. Had _hacked _him. Disgust and an instinctual sense of violation welled in his spark, and he immediately dedicated his full processer power to tracing the paths the other mecha had taken. To his immense relief, his memories and core coding were untouched. Flight, coms, and weaponry systems had been, predictably, disabled and firewalled by the unfamiliar signature, and Skyfire could tell the mecha that had done it had significant skill at programming. He looked carefully for any signs of pacification or other behavioral programs. He didn't find any, though that didn't mean they weren't there.

Skyfire was a good enough programmer that he'd be able to override the firewalls eventually, but it would take time and concentration he didn't have. The Autobots would undoubtedly realize what he was doing before he could come close to finishing. Even if he did manage to succeed, his chances of making it out of imprisonment without being noticed and caught again was zero. He made a note to analyze the firewalls for weaknesses anyway, just in case.

The door hissed open, and Skyfire immediately focused on the red and white mech that strode heavily through. The inlaid glyphs for an Iacon-qualified medic stood out in a stark contrast with his white chassis, elegantly detailed and complex as only the most highly regarded Iaconian medics had been given. The mech didn't look at all surprised to see him online, and his movements were clipped as he marched closer.

"You're awake," the medic—Ratchet, Skyfire remembered, that was his designation—stated curtly.

Skyfire didn't answer. He cast his processer back, trying to remember every scrap of information he'd ever heard about the Autobot medic. Ratchet had been their Chief Medical Officer since shortly after the new Prime came into power, and he'd been a famous Iaconian surgeon even before the war. Megatron had an enormous bounty on the mech's head, which had only grown with time. Skyfire had heard dozens of rumors about the mech over the vorns, none of them pleasant. Most of them revolved around his infamously violent temper—how even his _own _mecha were afraid of him.

The mech seemed unexpectedly professional considering his reputation, though Skyfire could see faint signs of annoyance simmering under the calm façade, subtly tightening his face and plating. Skyfire would have to be careful not to bring that anger to the forefront. He didn't want to make the situation any worse than it already was.

Ratchet gave him a quick once over and huffed before turning towards a counter on the opposite side of the room to gather tools. He subspaced a handful before picking up a very familiar style of microwielder. Skyfire had used almost the same tool thousands of time to fix damage to small systems, mainly small fluid lines. Expected, he supposed. Most of the damage would have been to the minor systems with far less heat resistance than the rest of him.

Ratchet sat on a chair beside the berth he was on, pulling it up so that he towered over Skyfire's inclined frame. "I assume you know what's going to happen," the Autobot stated as he offhandedly popped open one of the larger panels on his arm, eyeing the mass of circuitry and wires with a critical optic Skyfire automatically stiffened and tried to pull his arm away from the unfamiliar touch, but the restraints holding the limb down didn't budge a micrometer. Skyfire resolutely squashed the panic trying to flare up again at the reminder of just how helpless he was.

Ratchet shot him a glare, and Skyfire immediately stilled. "Don't move," he scolded. "You'll only mess up the repairs, and I'm not going to redo them." The mech didn't wait for a response, not that Skyfire had planned on giving him one. Ratchet soon turned back to the open paneling. He kept talking. "Soon as I give the all-clear, you'll be sent straight to the brig. Megatron will be notified. Either he negotiates for your return, or you'll have plenty of time to get used to being stuck in a cell."

To his surprise, Skyfire barely even felt the microwielder's presence as Ratchet began rooting around inside his arm. He could feel the distinct prickle of heat and the vague itch of almost sensation radiating from the area, but there was nothing even remotely painful. Either the mech was ridiculously precise or he was using one Pit of a sensor-numbing program. Skyfire spared part of his processing power to run through his coding again, but he couldn't find any foreign programs running. Huh. Ratchet must just be that good then. No wonder he'd earned such a high Command position.

Ratchet frowned, and he turned off the flame for a moment to test the repairs with his fingers. "I wouldn't try to get around the coding restrictions if I were you either," he continued. "It's got alerts and some nasty security measures built in. You don't want to know what will happen if we catch you trying to tamper with the codes." The microwielder was switched back on, and Ratchet kept working.

Skyfire watched as the Autobot finished with the first section and started removing plating farther down his arm, processer churning with ideas. How nice of the Autobot to warn him about the security measures he'd have to keep on optic out for. The mech was right, though. It would be exceedingly foolish to immediately attempt to ram through the blocks, but that wouldn't stop him from studying the code from the outside for any weak points. The door hissed open again behind them. Skyfire didn't want to take his optics off of the medic with his hands near his internals, but he shot a quick glance over to see who was entering. He almost wished he hadn't.

Scrap.

He'd never seen the mech in person before, but Skyfire recognized the deceptively small black and white frame instantly.

If Ratchet was infamous, then Jazz was legendary.

As the head of Autobot Special Ops, he was universally agreed to be one of the most dangerous Autobots out there. The mech was infamous for his roles in some of the most damaging pieces of sabotage over the entire war. The details of just what the Autobot had done were still classified, but the rumors were enough to paint a macabre picture. Even if only half of the rumors were remotely accurate, it was enough to firmly place the mech as someone you did _not _want to stumble across. Particularly unarmed and restrained. As if his orn hadn't already been bad _enough_ before Jazz's arrival.

Skyfire caught a few snatches of a lighthearted tune drift over from the hallway as Jazz entered. He moved with a smooth, easy gait, his plating relaxed against his frame and shifting easily with each step. Jazz was graceful, but it was a mix between the fluidity of a performer and the trained movements of a fighter. His mouth was curved into a cheerful grin, and his visor was a bright, relaxed blue. Skyfire tracked the mech as he ambled towards them, unconsciously tensing with each step he took closer. When Jazz was almost even with the medic, he pulled over a nearby chair and casually lounged against it.

The mech was good. Skyfire could almost believe he really was as carefree as he seemed.

Jazz watched the medic work for a couple kliks, acting as if he'd come in for nothing more than a casual visit. Skyfire could faintly sense the echo of a com transmission between them, though neither betrayed a hint of what it was about. He unconsciously stiffened when the Saboteur turned his gaze towards him. Jazz met his optics for a few moments, staring until Skyfire was forced to glance away.

"And here I thought we'd figured out all the 'Cons on Earth by now," Jazz drawled slowly, still staring. "Any reason ya ain't been involved in any of the other schemes Megatron's been trying ta pull off?"

Skyfire remained silent.

Jazz sighed theatrically and slouched further down into the chair. "Well, might as well get the formalities outta the way then," he said. "What's yer designation?"

Skyfire briefly considered ignoring the question again, but that would get him nowhere. Unlike the info about the raid, there really wasn't anything the Autobot could get from his designation. Maybe they could turn up something about his years at the Iacon Academy, but he'd be surprised if he'd been considered important enough to have a record of him during the war. Aside from his connection with Thundercracker and his last-minute addition to the Nemesis's crew, there was absolutely nothing remarkable about his time as a Decepticon.

"Skyfire," he answered quietly.

He didn't see any flicker of recognition on the mech's face, though he knew that didn't really mean anything. Not with a mech like Jazz.

"Rank?"

Skyfire hesitated. He briefly considered lying, saying he was just another unimportant grunt who hadn't been noticed on the battlefield out of chance. A grunt wouldn't have any information the Autobots would find useful—a medic, even an assistant one, definitely would. Even a scientist was unusual enough to catch some interest in a way a common foot soldier wouldn't. Maybe… but, no. The idea deflated almost as quickly as it'd appeared. Even on the off chance he could pull off the lie, his armor would still have the engravings of a field medic.

He only hesitated for a few kliks, but he could already see suspicion starting to leak into the carefully-arranged expression of the saboteur.

"Scientist and assistant medic," Skyfire said quietly, forcing his tone to remain calm.

Jazz tilted his head, humming a few notes quietly. "A non-combatant then? Not really Meg's style." He leaned forward slightly, bringing his face slightly closer. "So. Mind tellin' me what a non-combatant was doin' in the middle of one a Megatron's raids?"

_That _was a loaded question, and one without any good answer. If he wanted to defend himself, he'd more than likely end up accidentally giving the mech information as well. Conversations like that could be as dangerous as any physical fight, and Skyfire had always been absolute slag at word games. Starscream had been the one who knew how to turn words into weapons. He'd been able to cut a mech to pieces without touching him or trick a mech into giving up information without even realizing it. Skyfire was just happy when he could avoid embarrassing himself.

"I would prefer not to say," he said instead. He wasn't even going to try to play that game against the head of Special Ops. That would just be foolish.

Jazz actually laughed at that. A loud, full bodied thing that shook his frame and made his visor brighten with mirth. "Of course ya don't. An' so polite 'bout it too. So how'd a mech like you end up hangin' with Megatron's Elites?"

Skyfire stayed silent. Jazz offered him another crooked grin before standing up with a graceful flourish. He left Ratchet with a brief nod, which was ignored, and a brush against his shoulder as he stepped away. Some of the tension keeping Skyfire stiff disappeared with the distance.

"I'll leave ya to it, then," Jazz said cheerfully. He then waltzed out of the room the same way he'd entered it, leaving Skyfire alone with Ratchet once again.

Skyfire watched him go, feeling rather… perplexed. That… wasn't what he would have expected from the famous Saboteur. No threats, no overt coercion, and then he'd just _left. _Skyfire kept trying to fit a motivation to the mech, but nothing seemed right. Had he just wanted to take a look at their new prisoner? Why had he bothered doing it himself when he got almost nothing in return? And why the slag were they having him repaired—not just patched up, but fully repaired.

Skyfire didn't like not knowing what the Autobots wanted. It left him off-balance, unsure of what was going to happen to him and unable to prepare for it. He could only wait for their next move.

After almost half a breem, Ratchet finally subspaced the microwielder and started replacing the plating he'd removed. As he was finishing, his hand brushed against one of the medical engravings on his armor, and he paused.

"You said you're a medic," Ratchet started gruffly. He had an inscrutable expression on his face; curiosity mixed with a handful of other emotions Skyfire couldn't place. "Where were you trained? Definitely wasn't Iacon."

An odd question, but not a dangerous one. "Nowhere," Skyfire answered. "I taught myself the basics after the war began, then was briefly trained under a licensed medic once I enlisted."

Ratchet grunted slightly in response. He clicked the last of the plating's connections into place and let go of Skyfire's arm, though he didn't move away.

"I'm putting you back into stasis until I know whether the repairs will hold," Ratchet said. "Next time you wake, you'll be heading to the brig."

Skyfire tensed as the mech reached over and flipped open his medical interface port. Skyfire nearly lashed out, but the codes marking Ratchet as a medic made him hesitate long enough to remember why fighting the Autobot would be a bad idea. Immediately strengthening the firewalls for his more personal coding, Skyfire settled for watching the mech's presence warily to make sure he didn't go anywhere he shouldn't. This time, the mech stuck to the medical pathways. He stayed connected to Skyfire's processer just long enough to apply the code that would offline him before smoothly disconnecting.

Skyfire felt his systems reacting, cycling down slowly as the new commands activated. He didn't try to resist—he knew better than anyone how impossible it was to stop a medical stasis. The world slowly fell away until only his thoughts were left, and then even they disappeared.

~.*.~

**AN:** And a plot twist! How exciting :). Hopefully it didn't seem too random.

I could've sworn I typed up the first scene… over a year ago now, but, sadly, I couldn't find it. I think Skyfire might have been originally assigned guard duty during an Autobot attack… ah, well. Sorry this is a bit late. I took some time off writing for spring break, and then I was having some trouble deciding how I wanted the Autobots to come across. On one hand, they are members of an unfathomably long war from the viewpoint of an enemy soldier. On the other, they're still the Autobots we all know and love. Any advice/suggestions about depicting the Autobots or their procedure for prisoners is welcome.


	13. Autobot Hospitality

Tangled Destiny

Ch 13: Autobot Hospitality

* * *

><p>…<p>

The next time Skyfire onlined, it was to the slow, aching activation of a processer coming out of stasis lock. His systems sluggishly onlined one by one, circuits stiff after being forced offline for too long. Memory was among the first to return, and Skyfire nearly groaned aloud at the reminder of what had happened. His frame wasn't bound to the berth this time, but he knew that meant little. As soon as his sensor net reconnected, Skyfire activated his optics.

Ratchet was in front of him again, waiting for his systems to finish calibrating with steeled optics. A step behind his shoulder stood another Autobot, this one almost as large as the Shuttle. His red armor was flecked with old wielding scars that twisted around his frame, and his already warrior-grade plating was reinforced strongly enough that even a point-blank shot would do little more than dent the metal. It took Skyfire a klik to place the mech—Ironhide: armament specialist, personal advisor to the Prime, and yet another member of Autobot High Command. Fantastic.

"Get up," Ratchet said. "You're healed—time for you to head down to the brig." The medic turned away from the berth after he'd said his piece and made his way towards his desk at the back of the room. Ironhide remained beside the berth, glaring down at him.

Skyfire turned his attention back to his new guard. It seemed strange they would order a High Commander like Ironhide to escort a grunt like him, but it made sense when he thought about it. Ironhide was probably one of the few Autobots large enough to physically restrain him, if it came to that. Not that Skyfire had any intention of doing something that would send him directly up against one of the Autobot Elite, particularly one of the High Command. He wasn't glitched enough to consider that a good idea.

So Skyfire stood up without a protest. The restraints that had held him down last time were gone, but his hands were still restrained behind his back by a thick pair of stasis cuffs. He stumbled slightly as his newly activated sensor net adjusted but managed to catch himself before falling. His next step was stronger, and by the third his frame had stopped shaking. Ironhide fell into step behind him as soon as he moved away from the medical berth. The Autobot stood just a step too close for comfort, and Skyfire could hear the hum of charge in battle-ready circuits coming from him. Skyfire made a mental note to avoid doing anything that could be interpreted as even remotely threatening.

Ironhide eyed him as he moved, and Skyfire could feel him using the opportunity to catalogue every weak point and disadvantage on his frame. Skyfire's plating was clenched tightly against his frame, but that was the only sign of his discomfort he allowed to show.

"Don't even think about tryin' anythin', 'Con," Ironhide threatened, shifting so light reflected off his heavily reinforced armor. "I'll be watchin' ya every step a the way."

Skyfire inclined his head in acknowledgement, though Ironhide just grunted at the gesture. The Autobot wouldn't be taking any chances. They left the med-bay in an odd procession. Skyfire's steps were unsteady from the repairs and stasis-lock, but Ironhide marched him forward with military precision from barely a half-step behind—far too close for comfort. Skyfire could feel the heat generated from Ironhide's frame against his back, and every so often the Autobot would yank his bound arms to the side to force him to turn down a new hall.

They passed few mecha as they walked, and nearly all slowed down to stare unabashedly at their passing. Skyfire was unsurprised to see anger and suspicion in many of their faces. He was almost relieved when they arrived in the brig. It was in one of the more isolated sections of the ship, and Skyfire was thankful for the distance from the rest of the crew. They entered the room through a thick sliding door that locked behind them. Judging by the width of the door, it would be near impossible to break it down without a passcode or access to weaponry. Slag.

The brig was a normal cell, for what it was worth. It was about the same as an average prison cell from the war and far better than the worst that he'd seen. The cell was small, but not unreasonably so and outfitted with a berth that would at least hold him. Otherwise, the room was bare. The top of his head almost brushed the ceiling, and he estimated he'd be able to take maybe three full strides before he ran into the opposite wall. The floor held grooves where the energy bars would form, though they were currently offline.

"Don't move," Ironhide grumbled behind him.

Skyfire stilled, though he couldn't stop himself from jumping when he felt something touch his bound wrists. Grumbling, Ironhide continued pulling at his wrists for another klik until the stasis cuffs holding the Shuttle's arms together fell away with a metallic clatter. A sudden push to his back had him stumbling past the row of grooves, and Ironhide stepped backwards. The energy bars snapped back into place almost immediately, forming a solid barrier between him and the rest of the room. Skyfire watched it form, feeling surprisingly numb. He was a true prisoner now. It was a bitter thing to accept.

Across from the cell stood a basic table and chair for the guard. Ironhide flung his frame down on the chair with a muffled complaint, though Skyfire noticed how he'd angled the chair so the cell was directly within his line of sight. He soon took out a basic polishing kit and started working the scuffs out of a large cannon. Skyfire understood the implicit threat for what it was. At least the Autobot was quiet with his distrust.

Skyfire sat down on the berth, the only thing in the cell that looked as if it would support his weight. It creaked alarmingly but held, and Skyfire reluctantly relaxed onto the material. He glanced around the cell rather awkwardly, but nothing caught his attention. It was all bare metal and empty space. In the end, he settled his optics on his guard, watching the rhythmic motions as he polished his cannon. It was a disturbingly mesmerizing sight, but it gave him something to focus on while his processer worked.

* * *

><p>…..<p>

As Skyfire soon learned, being an Autobot prisoner was… boring. Almost painfully so, if he was honest. He spent the first few solar cycles in the cell in a state of constant tension, waiting for the Autobots to make their move. The guard shifts changed, new Autobots arrived, some silent and others tossing around the occasional insult, and Skyfire kept on waiting for… _something_. For the Autobots to send someone down for information, for them to realize that Megatron wouldn't bargain for his return, for one of the guards to push too far.

But… nothing.

Nobody came to interrogate or even speak to him. No threats were made or ultimatums given. The most interaction he had with any of the Autobots was when one of the guards brought him his energon, and even that was restricted to the most rudimentary contact. They even gave him full rations for his frame-type instead of cutting them down to prisoner levels. It was… strange.

Eventually, watching his guard and thinking about the situation started to lose its appeal, but there was little else he could do. He was stuck in a bare cell with only Autobots for company. At one point, he tried to access his sub-space for a datapad or the spare parts he always kept to tinker with, but its access had been locked from him. The Autobots had undoubtedly wanted to block him from accessing any weaponry without performing the invasive procedure to actually empty his sub-space, but Skyfire found he regretted the absence of those distractions more than any potential weapon.

He managed to spend a few cycles studying the restrictive coding the Autobots had installed, without much success. Whoever had programmed the restrictions had known what he was doing. Skyfire could follow the different strands of coding that made up the program and pick apart some of the surface levels, but he couldn't get any deeper without setting off the alarms. There weren't any loopholes he could take advantage of, and the coding was woven too tightly together for him to insert any of his own strands. Eventually, he hit a wall, and he didn't have the time or programs that could get him around it. So he was, once again, left with nothing. He tried to convince himself that this was the best possible outcome, but, much as he hated to admit it, he was truly _bored._

He treasured the boredom in its own way—it was far, far better than the alternative—but after a while, the inactivity started to get to him. He was used to always having something to keep his processer occupied: a scientific assignment, the occasional side-project, a medical emergency, even a diversion with the Seekers. He couldn't remember the last time there'd been absolutely nothing for him to work on. It made his processer itch with excess charge and his frame ache from inactivity. More than that, his thoughts started chasing themselves into circles, and any plans or projects he came up with quickly tied themselves in tangled knots without the opportunity to put them into action.

By the end of his first orn in what was essentially isolation, Skyfire was about ready to start throwing scraps of metal at the energy bars for something to do.

So when the outside door opened and Jazz waltzed through, Skyfire took notice. The mech waved jauntily at Skyfire's current guard—a red minibot, one of the more unpleasant guards who occasionally threw unimaginative insults at him—as he entered. He murmured to the minibot for a few kliks quietly enough Skyfire couldn't make out what was said before the minibot subspaced the datapad he'd been reading and stood up. As he left, Jazz turned his attention towards the cell, slouching casually against the nearby desk. Skyfire met his visor as steadily as he could.

"You're in a odd position, my mech," Jazz started casually. "Ya see, Megatron's been refusing ta reply ta any of our coms 'bout ya. We haven't got a statement outta him yet, but it looks like ya've managed ta get on Megatron's bad side. An' if Megatron's not willin' ta deal, that puts alla us in a… unpleasant position."

The news wasn't unexpected, but Skyfire still felt his spark sink at the confirmation. Megatron really was leaving him with the Autobots. Which left one glaring question. "So what will happen to me?" he asked.

Jazz shrugged. "Fer now? Nothin'. Least not until we work out what ta do with ya." He leaned forward slightly, giving him what was meant to be a reassuring grin. "I wouldn't worry too much though—I'm sure we'll manage ta figure somethin' out eventually, assuming Megatron don't change his mind 'bout gettin' ya back."

Jazz spoke cheerfully, but Skyfire shuddered at the almost ominous words anyway. If the Autobot was trying to be reassuring, he'd failed rather spectacularly at it. Skyfire really didn't want to see what the Autobots would decide to do with a long-term prisoner, and he doubted Megatron would change his mind. Their leader probably wouldn't notice his absence at all after he worked out his anger over the failed mission. He' never paid much attention to the more subtle necessities like more efficient energon production.

Jazz didn't elaborate on their future plans, and Skyfire didn't ask for details a second time. The Autobot had told him all they wanted him to know—he wouldn't be getting any more info. Of course, Jazz wasn't willing to just leave it at that.

"So," Jazz started, drawing the syllables out strangely as he leaned forward. "Seein' as you're gonna be staying as our guests for a while longer, seems a good idea ta get ta know ya better." He paused, visor flicking across his frame curiously. "Ya ain't exactly the usual kinda 'Con we see. 'S always strange ta see an Iacon mech wearing ol' Buckethead's insignia."

It sounded like small talk, but Skyfire didn't trust it. Jazz wouldn't be wasting his time for idle chatter. Still, Skyfire found himself struggling not to react. His old city had always been a touchy subject. The Iacon Academy had been home to some of his happiest memories, despite its problems. Iacon had needed change as much as any of the other cities, even if it hadn't been as obvious in the Autobot capital. He spoke before he had a chance to consider the consequences.

"You're from Polyhex, correct?" Jazz inclined his head, and Skyfire continued. "Then you should know better than most how our city of activation does not define us."

At the beginning of the war, Polyhex had been one of the more neutral cities. A mix of civilian and war frames, the city had been known for diversity and rough criminal underbelly. It had eventually joined the Decepticon. Unlike Kaon, its citizens had been split between the two sides, though many more had taken the Decepticon sigil than the Autobot. Jazz was one of the few known Polyhexians to make it high in the Autobots ranks.

Jazz spread out his arms with a wry grin. "Ya got me there, mech," he chuckled. "Would ya be willin' ta help satisfy my curiosity then? I know what made me join the Prime 'stead a the 'Cons, but I'd be interested in hearin' why a Iacon mech would choose the opposite."

"I would prefer not to. It was a… personal decision." He wasn't telling the Autobots about Skywarp and Thundercracker. They might be able to figure out the connection on their own, but he wasn't going to hand the information over to them. Jazz hadn't earned his position through luck; he knew how to wield information as a weapon, and Skyfire wouldn't give him any more ammunition if he could avoid it.

Jazz just shrugged. "As ya wish." He sighed and looked distinctly disappointed with him, but he didn't try to argue.

Skyfire was relieved when Jazz backed off for the moment—and slightly surprised as well. The Autobots already knew he didn't have Megatron's protection; they didn't have any tactical reason not to at least push him for info, but Jazz wasn't even prying into any personal info, let alone something tactically significant. It left Skyfire feeling grateful, if off-balance and almost tenser than before as he waited for the Autobots to reveal their true intentions.

After a moment, Jazz turned and, in one graceful motion, twisted over the side of the table he'd been leaning against and landed lightly in the chair, apparently done with his official message. Skyfire waited for Jazz to leave and another lower-ranked grunt to take his place, but the door remained closed and Jazz just lounged deeper into his chair. He was… actually taking a shift on guard duty? The Third-in-Command of the Autobots? What idiot was in charge of arranging shifts, and why the slag hadn't Jazz called in one of the grunts to take over? None of the Decepticon High Command would be caught dead performing such a menial chore.

Still, Jazz stayed at the table, and he didn't even look remotely bothered by it. Half of the _grunts_ had been more upset about being assigned guard duty. Jazz grabbed a datapad out of his subspace and flicked on his internal speakers so that the sound of the organics' music filled the air. The style was… strangely interesting. An odd reminder of the alien planet they'd been stuck on.

Jazz certainly added excitement to his time in the cell, but Skyfire found he missed the monotony of being guarded by the unranked bots. Even when Jazz wasn't doing anything, his very presence was a reminder of just how slagged Skyfire was for being captured. Of course, the reprieve couldn't last forever. Jazz eventually turned his attention back towards the cell again, and his visor was still bright with that dangerous curiosity.

"Ya know, mech, rumor has it that there was a strange 'Con at one a the bases near Iacon durin' the Siege," Jazz started, flipping his music off with a stray thought. He spun the datapad idly in one hand as he spoke, watching the metal turn. "A large Iacon mech, blue optics an' all, that played medic for the prisoners there. Made quite the impression on some a them." He caught the spinning datapad with one hand, turning so his visor was aimed directly at the cell.

Skyfire forced himself not to show any surprise at the statement. Well. Out of everything the Autobots might have uncovered about him, he certainly hadn't expected _that _to be the first thing they confronted him about. Why? What did Jazz want to accomplish by bringing up that tidbit of information? Sure, he'd treated the prisoners for a fair amount of the Siege, but that was a long time ago now and had little tactical importance. He hadn't even interacted with the higher leveled prisoners. So Skyfire fell back on a tried and true Decepticon method for avoiding trouble. Deny, deny, deny.

"An interesting rumor, to be sure, but I'm afraid I don't understand what you're trying to imply."

Skyfire expected to find annoyance in Jazz's optics at the rather obvious misdirection, but Jazz took the comment with an easy, almost amused acceptance. He flipped the music back on again, and the alien harmonics that filled the air were a welcome distraction. This time, Jazz actually seemed to settle down and focus on his datapad instead of using it as a distraction. Skyfire didn't dare hope Jazz was actually done with him, but he did seemed to be leaving him alone for the time being.

Eventually, as the cycles passed and Jazz didn't do anything unusual, Skyfire gradually started to relax. If this was some kind of game the saboteur was trying to play with him, then Skyfire had no clue what its point was. Despite it all, boredom slowly crept up on him again. Even the strange music and the occasional, casual glances from Jazz couldn't delay it for long. So they fell back into the old pattern of prisoner and guard, and the cycles marched onward.

* * *

><p>…<p>

After Jazz's interruption, the rotation of guards continued as it always had. Unfamiliar Autobots—grunts, undoubtedly, even if they were considered Elites—came and went in their several-cycle long shift. He started recognizing the occasional mech, and he grew to learn what to expect from certain guards. There was a bright red minibot with a rather unique helm configuration that tended to grumble insults and complaints throughout his shift while a blue Autobot with a large shoulder canon—one of Jazz's SpecOps, he believed—would spend the cycles calmly working on a datapad without saying a word. The yellow minibot always charged the air with dozens of 'com messages over the cycles but never spoke aloud. He learned to recognize the more unpleasant mecha first—the ones that would try to bait him into an argument or obtrusively polish their weaponry and glare. They never went past insults or muttered threats, but Skyfire always kept part of his processer monitoring them just in case.

The quiet slide of the door opening was a familiar sound by then. The sudden influx of noise was not. It was just a mech talking boisterously, but Skyfire was so used to the subdued silence of the cell that he flinched at the way the voice echoed loudly off the walls. Glancing over, Skyfire caught sight of his newest guard.

He didn't recognize the mech. Judging by the doorwings, he was a Praxian, a rare but not unheard of frametype, and the sensor panels were relaxed against his frame. Skyfire recognized hints of a Seeker's wing language in the movements of the wing-like sensor panels, though it was distinctly different in its own way. Still, Skyfire could tell that the mech was content and rather excited. Good. That meant the mech was less likely to harass him. The Autobot had a simple grey coloring with red accents and was of average height, likely with a simple car alt mode to match. If it hadn't been for the energetic way he moved and his voice, Skyfire wouldn't have even looked twice at the mech.

The new Autobot bounced straight towards the previous guard, calling out a cheerful greeting and already starting to chatter about some sort of argument that had taken place in the rec-room. After determining it was a minor, everyday scuffle—something about a lost bet—Skyfire tuned the conversation out. He had little interest in Autobot gossip.

Then the previous guard left, and the new mech… kept talking. His words didn't seem to be aimed at anyone in particular, but they flowed out of his vocalizer in a continual stream. His thoughts flowed freely from subject to subject, jumping from speculation to comments to random people and events. Despite the strangeness, it was by far the most interesting thing that had happened since Jazz's visit. Which was… rather depressing, actually.

Skyfire perked up when the Praxian mentioned something about shifts at a public relations event with the natives. He'd almost forgotten how the Autobots were allied with the organics. For all the research he'd done into the alien species in his free time, the Praxian would have actually _spoken_ with one. The guard continued rambling about a time when one of the minibots accidentally insulted the entire group, but he barely even mentioned the natives. Skyfire itched to ask him about the organics, but well-deserved caution held him back. The Praxian was still his guard and an enemy soldier—no matter how relaxed he seemed now, that could always change in a klik if he decided he didn't like having a Decepticon listening in. In the end, Skyfire's curiosity got the better of him.

"Do you have much interaction with the organics?" he asked when it seemed the Praxian would leave the topic of the event altogether.

Skyfire half expected the Praxian to immediately clam up and suspicion to fall across his face at the interruption. Most of the other guards would have been insulted by his audacity in speaking to them. Instead, the Praxian looked at him in surprise for a moment before breaking out into a broad grin. He easily switched his previous monologue into an actual conversation, seeming unexpectedly pleased at having someone to speak with.

"Yep!" he answered cheerfully. "Sparkplug and Spike, they're two of the native organics, and they hang around the Ark all the time. Most of us have had to recalibrate our sensors to make sure we pay enough attention to our feet so we don't accidentally squish them or anything. That would be _terrible_. The organic leaders would freak out—it's hard enough to get them to trust us as it is, with the damage the fights cause—and Optimus would be _furious _at us if we accidentally hurt them like that."

"What are they like?"

The Autobot fell silent for a moment, head tilted in thought. "Strange," he answered. "They're a lot like us in a lotta ways—kinda creepy actually, when you think about it—but completely different at the same time. They even look like us, 'cept they're all soft and squishy and they _leak, _which is pretty gross. They don't think the way we do at all, but the end result is really similar. And they're smart too. Not like us 'cause they don't have the processing power for it, but they make up for it in a lotta different ways. 'Course, the language takes a while to get used to—it's so _general,_ not like ours at all—but it works well enough. There was this one time when Sparkplug…"

He kept talking, occasionally backtracking or inserting random comments or veering off on brief tangents, but it all came back to the native organics. The words flowed out of his vocalizer in a constant stream of thought, and Skyfire drank it all in like a sponge. This was what he'd been missing. The occasional flight near organic settlements, the brief televised signals that reached the ship... it wasn't enough to know what these organics were like, what they were capable of. The Autobot, however, had first-hand experience with the species. From the sound of it, the organics were even more sophisticated than he'd expected. He'd already known their technology was impressive for their young civilization, if rather primitive compared to their own. It was the personalities and thought processes of such an alien species that still somehow developed so many parallels with their own. The more the Praxian talked, the more Skyfire began to understand just how similar the organics were.

The Autobot spoke about them as if they were fully-sparked Cybertrons, not just another one of the strange species. He spoke about their personalities and mistakes fondly, as if talking about the antics of a newly-framed adult. Skyfire might have chalked it up to misplaced sentimentality, but he'd noticed too many unusual features about the species to write it off immediately. He wished he could get the opportunity to actually speak to one of the organics. He needed to make his own observations about the species and the extent of their capabilities–his inner scientist demanded no less. For now, though, he'd have to settle for second-hand accounts.

Skyfire rubbed absentmindedly at his chest plates as he let the chatter wash over him. The spark-ache, which had been a constant companion since their arrival on Earth, was starting to act up again. It soon faded back down to a dull throb, and Skyfire sighed in relief. Despite his fascination with the natives, Skyfire hated being trapped on Earth. Too many memories.

The only hiccup came when Skyfire unconsciously shifted forward and Bluestreak's optics were drawn to the Decepticon sigil centered on his chest. His words stuttered nearly to a stop and he looked almost confused for a moment, as if he'd half-forgotten that the blue-opticed, Iacon-born Shuttle was still a Decepticon soldier. Skyfire prompted him back into the conversation with another distracting question, but it took another half breem before the Praxian was able to regain his momentum again.

The sound of the outer door opening again brought Skyfire abruptly back to reality. He was still in the Ark, still a prisoner, and the talkative Praxian was still his guard. He'd almost been able to forget about that while he was indulging his inner scientist. The Praxian continued speaking, though he glanced over at the opening door while he finished his explanation.

It was the yellow minibot—one of the more common guards and a relatively pleasant Autobot to be stuck with. At the sight of the Praxian, the minibot's face was brighter than Skyfire had ever seen before.

"Hey, Bluestreak," he called, raising a hand in greeting. "Guard duty treating you alright?"

He glanced curiously around the room, checking Skyfire over for a brief moment. Bluestreak grinned at the new mech, barely pausing for a moment before turning his bright chatter towards the new arrival. Skyfire barely even noticed. He was too caught up with staring at the newly-named Autobot with frank disbelief.

Wait.

What?

_Bluestreak? _What the _slag_? This mech—the young chatterbox who'd been cheerfully rambling at him for the last two cycles—was _Bluestreak? _One of the only non-ranking mecha with a long-standing bounty on his head and a reputation as the most accurate sharp shooter in either faction. Little was actually known about the Gunner, but there had definitely been idle speculation on what kind of mech could aim like that.

Surely a mech that effective on the battlefield couldn't actually be so… _innocent _outside of it. It didn't seem possible. He'd never put any thought into the type of mech Bluestreak would be, but it wouldn't have been… _that. _He'd probably have imagined someone like the long-ranged Decepticon Elite—cold, reserved, a bit rough around the edges. Not someone who could almost be mistaken for a newly framed adult. Yet… Skyfire couldn't find any sign that Bluestreak was faking it. He couldn't even think of a reason why the Gunner would be feigning innocence in the center of his own flagship. Bluestreak had just seemed honestly happy to have someone to converse with.

Either Skyfire was far, far worse at reading personalities than he thought, or Bluestreak was a far different person than the rumors painted him as. Skyfire… was inclined to believe the latter. Strange.

Bluestreak left the room soon after, but Skyfire's mind kept coming back to him. He'd just spent the last few cycles conversing with one of the more dangerous Autobots, and he'd had no idea. Had, in fact, enjoyed the conversation more than any other he'd had in vorns, aside from those with the Seekers. It took a long while for his processer to reconcile the idea of the two vastly different sides to the Autobot—the dangerous Sniper and the cheerfully chattering Praxian.

Now that he thought about it, despite the dozens of different topics Bluestreak had jumped between over his shift, he hadn't come close to referencing any sensitive info. He'd been careful, in his own, strange way even as he'd openly spoken with his prisoner. Bluestreak was certainly an _odd _soldier, but he hadn't been as careless as Skyfire had initially thought. Still, he found he preferred Bluestreak's unusual presence to any of the other guards.

Meanwhile, the silence echoed uncomfortably in the cell, weighing on Skyfire's processer in a way it hadn't before the Praxian's visit.

* * *

><p>…<p>

A full two orns after Skyfire took his first step into the cell, he finally got a chance to leave its small confines. Ratchet wanted to make sure the repairs had integrated correctly, and he apparently insisted on doing it in his med-bay. After so long it felt good to finally stretch his legs; to walk instead of having to shuffle, always aware of how close the walls were and how little space he had to move in. He recognized the halls from the first time he'd been brought between the brig and the med-bay.

They were only a few turns away when he heard the loud banging sound of a mech running full speed towards them. A blur of bright red and white came sprinting out of a nearby hallway. As the new Autobot caught sight of them, he skidded to a rather ungraceful stop only a few mechanometers away. Ironhide abruptly jerked them both to a stop at the sight. He took a protective step between Skyfire and the new arrival, but the Shuttle could see around him easily enough. A pair of wide wings caught his immediate attention.

It was… a Jet? He wasn't a Seeker—the wings weren't quite right and his frame wasn't streamline enough—but the Autobot was definitely a flyer. He bore simple red and white coloring, though his plating was obviously well cared for. Both of his wings were angled downward instead of out like a Seeker's, and the nose of his jet mode jutted up behind his helm. The flyer's optics were locked on the shuttle, but for once they didn't seem to be filled with anger or disgust. He hardly seemed to see the Decepticon symbol at all. Instead, he was staring intently at Skyfire's wings with something that looked strangely like awe, as if he wasn't used to seeing other flyers around. It took a moment for the pieces to click into place.

He was one of the younglings!

He'd heard about how the Prime had gotten a full gestalt of flyers from Vector Sigma after Megatron created the Stunticons. Thundercracker had ranted for _cycles _about being forced to go up against the newly sparked mecha—at Megatron for insisting they face the younglings as they would any other mecha and at both leaders for being either cruel or desperate enough to send new sparks to the battlefield.

Both Seekers did their best not to cause any true damage to the younglings, but there was only so much they could do without being completely obvious about it. He'd seen hints of the same from several other Decepticons—missed shots, non-lethal damage, and other small malfunctions that always seemed to happen around the flyers. Younglings were precious, especially after the war, and there was something inherently wrong about having to fight one.

"Fireflight." Ironhide said lowly, annoyance apparent in his tone. "You an yer brothers are supposed ta be runnin' drills out in the desert right now. What are ya doin' runnin' around the ship?"

Fireflight stepped backwards, wings fluttering nervously at the harsh tone. He had something in his hands—an odd twist of native material that shone in the light—and he held it up in front of him like a shield.

"We were. Are, I mean. My brothers are still out there. I just…" He thrust the object up higher, glancing up at the warrior beseechingly. "I found this when we were flying. It was so pretty and cool—it has _crystals _in it, see?—and Silverbolt said I could take it back to our quarters. It could have _broken_ if I just put it in my subspace and kept flying."

Fireflight grew steadily more nervous under Ironhide's silent, unimpressed stare. He eventually ran out of words and just stood there awkwardly, hunched in on himself slightly as if waiting for a punishment. Ironhide sighed, his annoyance deflating at the rather depressing sight of the youngling. He gave the flyer a gruff pat on his shoulder before pressing him towards a nearby hallway.

"Get goin'."

Fireflight immediately took off, running past them towards where he assumed the mech's quarters were. The native object was still cradled carefully in his hands, and it sent patterns of reflected light dancing across the walls. He glanced back at Skyfire one last time before he disappeared, but Ironhide's dour presence prevented him from lingering any longer. Ironhide caught him staring after the youngling and gave him a harsh push forward to distract him.

"Keep movin'," he grunted.

Skyfire didn't look back again, but his thoughts stayed on the jetling. If he was remembering right, then they were the only Autobot flyers on Earth. No wonder he'd stared. Skyfire was probably one of very few flyers the youngling had seen off the battlefield, which was a shame. They didn't have any mech to fly with them or teach them what it meant to be a flyer and the culture that came with it—to share memories of Vos or old traditions that the war hadn't managed to completely destroy.

At least the Autobots were clearly protective of the younglings, which was a good sign for how they were being treated. Judging by Ironhide's reaction and the obvious interest the newspark had shown, he wouldn't be surprised if they'd specifically tried to keep the young gestalt away from him. They wouldn't want to let a Decepticon influence them, not even when he was the only other flyer around. Which meant it was unlikely he'd get a chance to see the flyer again. A shame—he would have liked a chance to speak with the younglings.

Thoughts of the young flyers slipped away as they neared the med-bay doors. He needed to be able to focus when it was time to interact with the Autobot medic again, and Ironhide's dour presence wouldn't help the situation. The med-bay doors looked just as he remembered them, and he only hesitated in the entranceway for a moment before taking the first step inside.

~.*.~

**AN**: Sorry the chapter's a bit late—some of the scenes were hard to start, and I ended up writing over two thousand words for a scene that got pushed to next chapter (which is good news for the next update, at least). Plus, I'm now officially a high school graduate :). On a side note, I know the Aerialbots were created pretty late in the first season, but you'll see what I'm doing with the timeline soon enough. New characters are very fun to introduce.


	14. Unexpected Problem

Tangled Destiny

Ch 14: Unexpected Problem

* * *

><p>Ratchet didn't even look up when the door slid open. He was hunched over a desk on the far side of the room, muttering to himself as he worked on a disassembled communications array spread out in front of him.<p>

"Sit," he grunted, absentmindedly waving a hand in the direction of the row of berths by the far wall.

Ironhide guided him towards the medical berths without arguing, but Skyfire caught a quiet grumble about medics who didn't know how to keep their own schedules. Skyfire lay down on the berth without protest. He even let Ironhide adjust the stasis cuffs until Skyfire was firmly secured to the berth, unable to attack Ratchet even if he wanted to. He did briefly test the bindings to see if he'd be able to escape them just in case, but the metal was thick and strongly enforced. He wouldn't be able to break them in case the Autobots tried anything. This time, though, he was starting to believe he wouldn't have to.

Ratchet continued tinkering with the device for another breem, cutting out melted lumps of metal and wielding new wiring in carefully. Eventually, he placed the microwielder down on the desk with a loud clank and stood out, stretching the joints of his hands with a muffled groan. Sweeping the ruined parts into a nearby bin with one hand, Ratchet turned and started ambling towards them. He tried to shoo Ironhide out of his way once he reached the berth, but the Commander just shifted over a few steps and continued looming over them both. Ratchet wasn't amused. He turned his glare over to the other Autobot, plating flaring out aggressively.

"Ironhide," he started, crossing his arms defensively and widening his stance. "You know how much I hate healthy mecha hovering around my med-bay while I work."

Ironhide matched Ratchet movement for movement, using his superior height to his advantage. "Ya know it's my job ta make sure the 'Con doesn't try ta—"

A small scrap of metal clanged off Ironhide's head, silencing him immediately. Ratchet held up another, larger piece threateningly. "_Out_," he ordered. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm perfectly capable of defending myself against an unarmed, _restrained _mech."

Ratchet accompanied the order with a sharp glare, which Ironhide met unflinchingly. For a moment, it seemed as if the Autobot was going to keep arguing. Skyfire admired his bravery—it was always risky to pick a fight with your base's head medic. The standoff didn't last for long though. Ironhide soon looked away with a loud curse.

"_Fine, _ya stubborn glitch. I'll be outside the door. Holler if he tries somethin'."

With another distrustful glare, Ironhide stomped towards the door, hitting the keypad with more force than was strictly necessary. As soon as the med-bay doors closed behind the large Autobot, Ratchet turned back to him and started removing the outer plating of his upper arm. Skyfire was somewhat convinced that Ratchet wasn't about to damage him on a whim, but removing parts of his armor still left him feeling distinctly vulnerable. He had to remind himself that the Autobots had been given far better opportunities to damage him and hadn't taken advantage of them (yet), but it barely helped. A small part of his processer kept whispering about how easily the Autobots could change their minds and reminding him of the many different ways a medic could make life very unpleasant.

If Ratchet noticed his discomfort, he didn't comment on it as he started testing the integrating repairs. Having Ratchet feeling around in his circuits felt just as strange the second time; Skyfire was far too used to performing his own repairs to be comfortable with even a trusted mech doing them, let alone a stranger.

Ratchet tisked lightly and moved a bundle of circuitry and sensory connections aside. "Hold still," he said, leaning forward for a better angle. "A few of the welds were knocked loose."

He took a microwielder out of his subspace again and reached deeper into Skyfire's frame. A spark of pain echoed up his arm as Ratchet began fixing the welds, but it was easily ignorable. He fixed the welds in a few short motions. Ratchet eventually worked his way further up his arm and onto a few sections of his shoulder and side, but the major damage had been concentrated on his upper arm. Once he finished the inspection, he replaced the thick armor plating and locked them back into place.

"I'm gonna have to check the code blocks for signs of tampering, but unless you've done something stupid it shouldn't take long." He looked up, meeting Skyfire's optics, and his expression was serious. "Don't try to fight me. You won't win."

Skyfire muttered a curse under his breath. So Ratchet was going to check the coding. Bad enough they'd hacked him and installed the restrictive coding while he was offline—the last thing Skyfire wanted was to repeat the process while he was still aware. This time, though, Ratchet would already have the access codes he'd stolen the first time, which meant Skyfire wouldn't be able to put up a fight even if he was willing to risk Ratchet's ire. Skyfire was pragmatic enough to ignore his instinctual disgust and convince himself not to resist, but just barely.

Ratchet was about to pop open his medical access port when he paused mid-movement, optics flickering in the familiar pattern that meant he was receiving a 'com transmission. His hand hung in the air, microwielder still clasped loosely in his fist, for almost a quarter breem until he abruptly jerked back into motion.

"Slag," he cursed, half to himself. He immediately turned away, absentmindedly setting the microwielder back down on the berth, and moved quickly towards the back end of the med-bay, where a haphazard array of tools was spread out across several surfaces. A few standard tools for battlefield injuries were immediately subspaced, and then the mech started rooting through the ones remaining.

Well, there went his hope of getting through the checkup without anything unpleasant happening. At least something interesting was happening for once, and Skyfire was grateful for any chance to delay the coding check.

"What is it?" Skyfire asked when it looked like the medic might have actually forgotten about him.

Ratchet only spared him a quick glance, and his words were clipped when he answered. "One of the patrols got into a skirmish. You're staying right there until I'm done dealing with them."

Ah. Which meant he'd soon be in the same room as mecha fresh off the battlefield against other Decepticons. That could end very badly. At least Ratchet was strong-willed enough he should be able to control his patients if they tried anything. Ratchet didn't seem the type to condone any kind of distraction while he worked, though there was always the possibility Skyfire had misjudged him.

Skyfire could estimate how close the injured patrol was getting by how annoyed Ratchet appeared. He started by trudging around the med-bay, picking up new tools and occasionally muttering to himself. The muttering gradually grew louder as the breems dragged on until he was full on ranting, threats and insults included. His movements grew shorter and his face twisted into deeper and deeper annoyance as his temper built upon itself. By the time the med-bay doors slid open, Ratchet absolutely radiated anger.

"Oy, Ratchet!" the new mech called out, either ignoring or unaware of the foul mood the medic was in.

Skyfire recognized the new Autobots immediately. He'd heard enough grumbled descriptions and seen enough holovideos to recognize the bright red and yellow mecha shuffling into the med-bay.

It was the twins. Of course it was. With the way his luck had gone the past orn, why should he have expected anything different? Literally anyone would have been better than those two and their obsession with attacking Seekers. The red twin, Sideswipe, was being half-carried by his brother, but he didn't seem bothered at all by the indignity. Something was wrong with his leg and the Autobot carried himself gingerly, but nothing about the damage seemed immediately threatening,

"Sideswipe," Ratchet acknowledged sharply. "The slag did you do this time?"

Sideswipe immediately held up his one free hand in supplication and grinned sheepishly. "Hey, s'not our fault!" he said, waving his hand dramatically to emphasize his point. "They're the ones that jumped _us _this time!"

They reached the nearest medical berth, and Sunstreaker easily levered Sideswipe onto it. The red Autobot hissed as the movement jarred his damage before relaxing into the material. Once Sideswipe was settled, the yellow twin took up a post beside his brother's berth, leaning against a nearby wall with a dour expression on his face. Sunstreaker hadn't escaped the skirmish undamaged, but his injuries were less severe than his twin's. Thin trickles of energon stained his plating from shallow cuts and deep, irregular dents, but it was nothing self-repair couldn't eventually fix. Ratchet reached Sideswipe's medical berth within astroseconds of the frontliner lying down. He hovered over the mech's frame for a few moments as scans washed over him before taking a few basic tools out of his subspace and starting to close some of the larger gashes in his plating.

After Ratchet's reaction to Ironhide's presence in the med-bay, Skyfire was surprised that the medic allowed Sunstreaker to stand so close while he worked. Sunstreaker at least stayed well out of Ratchet's way. As he waited, Sunstreaker took out a worn polishing cloth and started buffing out some of the scratches and scuff marks covering his plating, though he kept glancing back at his brother every few kliks. Eventually, Sunstreaker's attention fell upon Skyfire. His optics darkened as they caught sight of the Decepticon sigil on his chest, but he thankfully didn't make a scene. Still, he did angle himself so he was standing between Skyfire and his injured twin.

"And who are 'they?'" Ratchet asked as he took out a few shredded wires and reached for a replacement.

Sideswipe shrugged, shifting to give Ratchet better access. "A handful of Seekers."

Ratchet froze for a moment before turning a fierce glare onto the frontliners. "Let me guess," Ratchet spat, optics flaring dangerously. "Jet judo?"

Sideswipe's guilty grin was his only answer.

Ratchet hissed a blare of furious static and looked like he was barely restraining himself from hitting the frontliner. "Not another word," he growled. "Don't move, don't talk, _nothing. _I don't want to hear a slagging _thing _from you until you've fixed whatever personality glitch makes you so slagging _stupid._"

Skyfire barely heard Ratchet's outburst. He'd stopped listening at the first mention of Seekers. Had he seen Skywarp and Thundercracker? Fought them? Slaggit, had he and his twin damaged them again? Some of the worst injuries they'd taken during the past vorns had come from the Twins, and the Command Trine was one of the frontliners' favorite targets. Skyfire had to bite his tongue to stop himself from asking Sideswipe to elaborate.

From the look of Sideswipe's injuries, the Seekers had put up a Pit of a fight. Now that the other mech was stretched out on a medical berth, Skyfire got a better look at the damage. The plating along Sideswipe's entire side had been warped out of shape as if he'd been thrown against something, likely the ground, and he was covered in dozens of smaller injuries. Scratches marred his armor, some deep enough to have drawn energon, and a particularly large dent in his calf was preventing the struts from moving smoothly. Ratchet was focusing on stopping the flow of energon as efficiently as possible.

To his credit, Sideswipe seemed to have realized he'd pushed Ratchet far enough and obeyed the order. Ratchet was able to work in silence for almost a full breem until Sideswipe decided enough time had passed and he was allowed to speak again.

"Something's got the Seekers in a tizzy," he started casually, shifting uncomfortably as Ratchet started popping out some dents more forcefully than necessary. "Haven't seen them this worked up in _vorns._"

He was interrupted by a wrench slamming against the side of his head with a loud thud. Sideswipe broke off with a curse, rubbing the small dent and staring up at Ratchet with sad optics. Ratchet was decidedly unaffected as he continued glaring at the frontliner.

"So you decided _that _was the perfect time to slagging jump on top of them?" Sideswipe grinned, and Ratchet smacked him again. "Glitch!"

After that, Ratchet kept up a continuous stream of insults, some of them remarkably creative, with the occasional light whap on the head or arm for emphasis. Yet… his touch stayed gentle. No matter how loud his voice grew or what new, painful threats he uttered, Ratchet never pressed down on the damage or yanked on the sensitive circuitry. Even the dents from Ratchet's wrench were disappearing as his self-repair worked. The blows must have been just hard enough to bend the plating—painful, but temporary and essentially harmless. _Hook_ wasn't even that careful with his patients when he was annoyed.

As for Sideswipe… he didn't seem remotely bothered by the tirade the medic was aiming at him. He kept grinning and even interjecting small, cheerful comments about the threats, wincing occasionally as Ratchet moved across sensitive components but otherwise completely unfazed. He was…_comfortable _with the mech. Like he trusted the medic to repair him no matter what the frontliner said or did to annoy him.

Sunstreaker, his _spark-split twin,_ was barely even paying attention to his injured brother. He was still leaning against the wall and polishing himself, occasionally shooting Skyfire a suspicious glare but completely ignoring the medic loudly threatening his twin. Skyfire knew about bonds—the Twins would be spark-bound just as closely as the Seeker's trinebond or the partner bond he'd shared with Starscream. No matter what kind of mech Sunstreaker was, he was bound to protect his twin. Yet, he seemed to have completely dismissed Ratchet as a threat.

And didn't that just shatter the idea of Ratchet as the Autobot's sadistic glitch of a medic.

It was possible that Sideswipe's relationship with Ratchet was unique—that something about his strength or reputation kept Ratchet from being harsh with him—but Skyfire doubted it. He knew what a mech relying on his position for protection acted like from experience, and Sideswipe didn't fit. He was too relaxed about bantering with the mech, too honest in his trust. He wasn't watching the medic for any sabotage, the subtle kind of revenge any medic knows that could take orns to manifest and never be traced back. Their interaction was rather fascinating, if Skyfire was honest with himself.

Strange as it was to acknowledge, Ratchet was acting like nearly any other medic he'd worked beside during the war. Better, even, than some of them. He was firm, even borderline violent with his patient, but, if Skyfire didn't know better, he'd say the medic actually seemed to care about his patient. Honestly, Skyfire could name several Decepticon medics where that wasn't the case.

In less time than Skyfire would have expected, Ratchet finished patching up Sideswipe, and he immediately tossed the twins out of his med-bay with a warning that he'd reformat them into go-karts if he saw them again in the next orn. Then Ratchet turned back to Skyfire grumbling quietly about ungrateful, suicidal mecha. He took a moment to collect himself before reaching out to open Skyfire's medical access port again.

The most Skyfire could say for the processer scan was that it was quick and Ratchet kept it strictly professional. Skyfire could still feel Ratchet rummaging around in his processer, testing the restrictive coding for weaknesses or any sign of tampering. Even so, his presence stayed reassuringly far away from everything else—his memory banks, the elaborate firewalls surrounding any sensitive information, even his emotions. He could still sense the foreign presence inside his processer, but it was better than it could have been.

For the first time, it occurred to Skyfire that Ratchet was probably a skilled enough hacker that, had the Autobot kept Skyfire in stasis longer, he could have eventually broken through the firewalls protecting his medical files and other useful data. Yet, they hadn't. So the Autobots were just pragmatic enough to hack a mech and install foreign coding for their safety, but they'd drawn the line at deepening the hack for information. Reassuring, he supposed, though now he knew that the Autobots had the ability to hack into the information should they change their mind.

It only took a few kliks before Ratchet was unplugging himself and packing away his tools, looking nearly as uncomfortable as Skyfire felt. Skyfire was left alone in his processer again, though faint traces of the medic's presence lingered among the coding. Ratchet moved away from him almost immediately and began studiously ignoring him from half the room away. He must have commed Ironhide as well since the Commander came stomping through the doors soon after he finished. Grumbling, Ironhide started undoing the restraints, and Skyfire waited for Ironhide's command to stand again. Then it was back to the long, uncomfortable walk to the cell again. This time, there was no interruption to delay their return.

* * *

><p>...<p>

It was dark when Skyfire felt the first faint stirrings of true pain from his spark.

For a moment, his chest _flared _with spark-pain, knocking him out of recharge and into a full blown panic. He would have shouted his pain and surprise to the world, but his vocalizer fritzed and his yell collapsed into a static-ridden groan. His processer jerked online, and Skyfire found himself caught in a tangle of pain and confusion and panic. As soon as he realized what was happening, Skyfire did his best to lock down his vocalizer and motor cortex. His guard was still stationed outside the cell—bored, inattentive, but still present

It only lasted a brief handful of kliks, but the intimate pain seemed to drag on forever. Finally, the pain relented, fading slowly back into a tender ache, and Skyfire was left shaking and half curled around his chest. As soon as he was back in control of himself, he unlocked his motor controls and carefully straightened himself back out, ignoring the way his spark continued to ache and freeze in his chest.

Even with the interrupted recharge cycle, pain had cleared his processer of any lingering lethargy. Instead, panic slowly curled inside his chest. It all boiled down to one undeniable thought—his glitch was acting up again, and he was still imprisoned in the Autobot brig.

The ache in his spark had been a constant companion ever since their arrival on Earth, and he'd known another attack was inevitable. He'd started making preparations to deal with it back in the ship, but none of that mattered here. With everything that had happened, he hadn't even thought about the glitch in orns, let alone prepared for the possibility.

Warmth slowly crept back into his spark, but his chest remained heavy with dread. His guards as a whole were unobservant, but they weren't stupid. He might be able to keep the first flares of pain secret, but he had a minuscule chance of being able to hide the final glitch, particularly if Ratchet got involved. With his training, it wouldn't take the medic long to realize what was happening. There were only so many causes of spark-pain, and a bond, even a long-broken one, changed a spark fundamentally.

The thought of the Autobots—of _anyone—_discovering the glitches made him cringe with revulsion. Even if they didn't try to do anything with the knowledge, it didn't matter. This was _his. _The spark-pain, the broken bond,_Starscream_—the Autobots didn't have the right to something so intensely personal. Nobody did.

He couldn't wait passively anymore for the Autobots to make their decision or Thundercracker to convince Megatron to negotiate. Determination curled in his spark, mingling with the lingering cold, and the next cycles were filled with half-formed ideas and plans.

For the rest of the night cycle, Skyfire didn't recharge. Instead, he began systematically removing every identifying tag and line of code that marked his virtual presence as Decepticon. Every mech had the identifiers programmed in along with their faction sigil when they enlisted. The code was deep enough that most mecha weren't able to remove them by themselves, but Skyfire was a trained medic—he knew how to insert them, and he knew how to remove them. It just took patients, knowledge, and caution; some of the strands of code had been intentionally buried dangerously close to his personality matrix. He slowly coaxed the markers out and shredded the code until nothing remained.

When he was sure his virtual presence would register as effectively neutral, Skyfire stood up and, ignoring the sudden attention the movement garnered from his guard, walked over to a nondescript panel on the far wall. He then proceeded to do nothing interesting whatsoever for the next several breems until the Autobot once again lost interest in him and returned to his 'com conversation. Only then did Skyfire access the obscurest transmission channel he knew of and send the first querying ping into the metal behind him.

Among most mecha, it was little known that the energy cell technology predated the Great War. The technique had been essentially perfected during the Golden Age, and it would have been a waste of time and energon to engineer any major changes. The Decepticons certainly hadn't engineered anything new and, as far as he knew, had just changed security clearance and such since then. During his time in the Decepticon cellblocks, Skyfire had grown familiar with the construction of the cells and the mechanics behind them.

If he was right, then part of the circuitry controlling the cell was now located directly behind his frame.

His soft ping met with the impressive firewalls of a large, well-guarded system, and Skyfire carefully began weaving the thin tendrils of the connection into a true transmission channel. He worked slowly, keeping the link as small and unobtrusive as he possibly could. He could feel the channel take root and strengthen, and then the firewalls lay spread out before him in a woven, structured mass of code. Skyfire followed the tangled coding into a natural crack in the firewall, where he reached in and felt his presence catch on the loose edges he could use.

He branched out and started weaving himself into the code, testing the limits of the firewalls and feeling for any weaknesses. As soon as he got his first handhold deeper, Skyfire hesitated. He half-expected for the security system to react to his presence, for an identity tag he'd missed to trigger the alarms, or the guard to suddenly realize just where he was sitting. _Something. _There were a thousand and one ways this could go wrong, yet, the system stayed as quiet as ever. No alarms blared, no security systems engaged. Outside of his processer, the physical world continued on as if nothing had changed.

He waited for almost a full breem before using his locus to reach deeper. It was a relatively simple AI, almost completely isolated from the main processer of the Ark. Simple commands and queries floated past him as Skyfire cautiously made his way through the weaknesses in the firewalls. Much of the cracks in the firewalls were the same as the ones he'd found with the Decepticons, though the openings were small enough he had to push and guide them until he could access them. Undoubtedly, he'd have missed them completely if he hadn't known where to look.

He spent cycles just making his way past the firewalls and into the system itself. Ignoring the physical world was unexpectedly comforting, and for precious moments he was able to forget the ache in his spark and the uncertainty of his future. There was only the coding and the challenge of sneaking into the Autobot system. Once he broke through and felt the programming spread freely before him, he set about trying to coax the AI into believing he was just another unimportant subroute authorized to control the brig.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Time lost all meaning as he worked on the system, studying the flow of information and carefully nudging it into a better formation. It was a long process, made worse by the occasional, unwelcome interruption from the Autobots. He integrated himself into the system as quickly as he dared without risking discovery, but even then he spent cycles pressed against the wall. The subroutes were complex and interconnected, with each new discovery and access port leading to new strands. He was almost surprised when he reached the end and realized he'd managed to untangle the entire jumble of connections. For a moment, his conscience wandered freely, getting a feel for the flowing system.

He could get out of the cell. Skyfire could feel the certainty of it with every transmission that brushed past him and each pulse of energy hidden inside the cell walls. He knew which command would trigger the energy bars to dissipate and the door to the rest of the ship to unlock. The lockdown commands for the room shone in the virtual web of programming, but Skyfire had already identified the threads that, when blocked, would prevent the system from activating. The only problem he couldn't fix was the security system. The security cameras still stood, and the programs protecting them from tampering were far stronger than Skyfire could break in the few cycles he had. Any attempt to block or deactivate it would be immediately caught, which would defeat the purpose of tampering with it. Either way, the Autobots would know something was wrong almost immediately.

It got worse. He knew he could get out of the room, but the rest of the Ark was another story. He didn't know where the room was located in the huge ship or anything about the laout, aside from the route to Ratchet's med-bay. He'd looked for data, but the firewalls blocking off the main databanks were far stronger than those controlling a single room. Even when he'd searched for a signal from nearby sections of the Ark, the firewalls surrounding the systems of the halls and rooms were different enough that his experience couldn't help him. He didn't have the time to search through each strand of code for the cracks, and even if he could he doubted he could navigate through an unknown firewall without tripping some sort of alert.

The odds were stacked against him to an almost ridiculous degree. He'd already accomplished far more than he'd expected—he'd successfully completed the first steps of a plan, even if the rest of it was still little more than a vague outline of ideas. What he should do was wait for an opportunity to finish the rest of a plan, something with a passable probability of success. Unfortunately, that would take time he couldn't spare.

A small chance was still better than no chance at all, and his odds weren't going to get any better in the time he had left.

Even after he was ready, Skyfire didn't act immediately. His current guard was one of the larger mecha with a grudge, and he never went without a blaster by his side. Skyfire would have the surprise of the bars deactivating, but it was still a tossup whether he could get past the mech before another Autobot arrived. Better to wait for another opportunity, one without the added risk. Skyfire let the rest of the shift pass normally, and he waited.

His chance came with the shift change. A small red minibot, one of the more volatile ones Skyfire had encountered, relieved the other mech's shift. He was also a careless mech, prone to distraction and random fits of temper during his shifts. More than once he'd left his spare blaster leaning out of reach and, though Skyfire could see where inbuilt weaponry was concealed under his armor, the Autobot never kept them charged. It was as good a chance as Skyfire was going to find.

Skyfire steadied himself, checked the codes one last time, and stood up. The movement immediately caught the Autobot's attention. He straightened out of a bored slouch, frowning suspiciously as he took to his feet.

"Whadda you want?" he asked loudly, scanning the cell with a curt jerk of his helm.

Skyfire didn't answer, still trying to formulate a response that would bring the guard closer. When Skyfire didn't immediately respond, the minibot's face darkened, and he puffed out his armor threateningly. Then he took two steps forward without even glancing at his blaster, still lying forgotten on the table, and squared his shoulders as if preparing for a fight.

His second statement was even louder. "Oy, I'm talking to you!" he shouted, face tight in growing anger.

Skyfire kept his face blank and slightly condescending, hiding his surprise. This would be… far easier than Skyfire had expected. He didn't have to say a single word, and the minibot was already flustered and making mistakes. The minibot growled, taking another few steps closer to Skyfire and farther from his weapon.

"If you think you can ignore me just 'cause you're ridiculously fragging huge…" he blustered. Skyfire tuned out the rest of his words as he started into a full-blown rant, gesturing wildly. His processer was clear and razor-sharp from anticipation, and his frame buzzed with excess energy. He just needed a bit more, a bit closer… The Autobot was gradually shifting forward from the force of his temper.

The minibot was just a step away, almost close enough to touch.

Skyfire deactivated the bars.

The energy fizzled out immediately, and Skyfire felt his other programs activating simultaneously. The Autobot made a strangled sound of surprise and jerked back, hand flying towards his 'com unit, but Skyfire was faster. With one hand, he grabbed the minibot's shoulder, holding him in place. He used his other hand to reach towards his neck and, activating a small blade in his fingertip, smoothly cutting the mech's motor controls. He'd done the motion a thousand times on his patient, but the results still sent a small jolt of unease through his systems. The smooth metal under his hands abruptly stilled as motor control vanished. Every minute twitch and hum of energy stopped, as if life had drained from the living metal as well. The Autobot collapsed into a heap on the ground, but Skyfire was already turning away, towards the exit. He was out the door within astroseconds of the bars deactivating.

Outside, the hallway stretched on before him, both directions identical to his optic. To the right lay the path to Ratchet's med-bay, but the left was a mystery. He chose the left. He had no way to hide from the security cameras, so he didn't try. Instead, he ran down the halls, taking turns almost at random and relying on his navigational programs to keep him from getting turned around.

He found himself in a part of the ship that felt nearly abandoned. The passages were poorly lit and scattered with bits of rock and dirt. It looked as if few had passed through the area since before the crash, which suited Skyfire well. Even so, the glimmer of working security cameras still shone at every turn. Some of the halls were blocked off by doors that lacked the energy to open, forcing him to change direction. . He hadn't heard any sound of pursuit yet, but many of the Autobots were trained in stealth. He could feel his chances of escape slipping away with every passing moment.

Eventually, he couldn't ignore the unease weighing down his chest. Something felt off. He could have sworn someone was following him, but the hall was empty around him. He shuddered and forced his frame to move faster.

He bit off a curse and skidded to a halt as he turned a sharp corner and was met with a wall of earth instead of empty space. The hall was completely blocked off by boulders and thick clods of dirt. It looked like the mountain had broken through the ship's hull, and he didn't know how deep the breach extended. He turned around, already regretting the lost time, but only made it a couple steps before the air in front of him began to shimmer.

Skyfire froze as the outline of a mech appeared and solidified. The Autobot sigil was etched proudly on his chest, and he had the slim, elegant build of a Noble which, combined with the electro-disrupter, meant he could only be one mech. Mirage. A senior member of SpecOps, expert in infiltration and ranged weaponry. And he was pointing a heavy-duty blaster at Skyfire's chest.

"Hands up," he ordered. "No sudden movements or I _will _shoot." His hands were steady on the weapon, and his combat stance never wavered.

Skyfire stayed still, optics locked on the weapon, but his processer was frantically churning in thought. His armor was thick enough to take a shot, maybe two, without sustaining serious damage, and his chest held some of his thickest plating. If he sprinted, he could be past Mirage in only a few steps, and another hall branched off almost directly behind the Autobot. If luck was with him, that might buy him another couple breems to search for an exit.

The decision only took him a few astroseconds to make. Skyfire dove to the side and charged forward, aiming for the opening between Mirage and the wall. The pain was sudden and crippling in its intensity. Skyfire's leg buckled beneath him, sending shocks of agony through his sensor net. His momentum carried him forward another step, and hot energon spattered across his leg. He lay there, stunned, for a moment before his processer caught up with what had happened. Mirage had shot through the thinner plating of his knee, tearing past the weaknesses in the flexible armor and into the complex machinery beneath. It was an impressive shot; Skyfire might have admired it if his processer hadn't been occupied with debilitating pain at the time.

He tried to work past the pain, but the blast had destroyed too much of the joint; he couldn't barely even move the limb. Still, Skyfire refused to remain sprawled helplessly on the ground. He painfully levered himself off the floor, dragging his leg into position when he couldn't force it to move on its own. He managed to rise to his knees before the damaged joint wouldn't take him any further, and even that made his frame tremble from pain and effort.

Slow, measured steps reverberated through the hall as Mirage walked closer. Leaning heavily against the wall, Skyfire looked up to see Mirage, almost within arm's reach, still pointing his blaster at him unflinchingly. From where he was kneeling, Skyfire's helm was almost in line with the barrel of the weapon.

"Next time's your shoulders," he warned. "Let's save Ratchet the trouble of patching you up more, alright? That will be easier for everyone."

Mirage sounded almost bored and completely certain in the outcome-one way or another, Skyfire would be back in the cell. Unwillingly, Skyfire had to agree. Skyfire couldn't stand, let alone run, and too much time had passed. The rest of the Autobots couldn't be far behind by now. Even if he, by some miracle, got past Mirage, he'd still have the rest of the Ark to face. In truth, his faint chance of getting out had evaporated the moment he was cornered by the armed Saboteur.

Skyfire gritted his teeth and lowered his head in surrender, though he couldn't force his vocalizer to say the words. Mirage took the signal as the acquiescence it was, and some of the tension drained out of him, though he didn't lower his blaster. Skyfire felt the Autobot's optics on him, eyeing his frame and debating the best way to get him safely back behind bars. He clenched his fists and endured the inspection.

Mirage shimmered out of sight again. Skyfire glanced around warily, but he couldn't figure out where the Autobot had disappeared to. No stray sound or footprint gave the mech away, but Skyfire didn't have long to search. Something brushed against the back of his neck, and he flinched away automatically. Then a stronger motion reached under his neck armor and nimbly tugged something free—a vital motor line, he realized with a jolt, but by then it was too late. He topple forward onto the floor again as his frame stopped responding to him. His vision swam and audios glitched before cutting out entirely, and even his sensor net was slowly growing numb. He floated, unfeeling and alone, for only a moment before unconsciousness claimed him.

* * *

><p>...<p>

When he onlined again, his frame throbbed, and his leg ached with integrating parts. The joint had been repaired and recently at that. His processer also _itched _uncomfortably, and it didn't take long for Skyfire to find the new firewalls that had been installed while he was unaware. Ratchet had managed to block off all his internal and external communications as well—there would be no accessing the AI again. He doubted he would be able to connect to anything even with a cable physically connecting them together. The Autobot had effectively crippled his hacking ability, one of the only advantages he'd had.

He didn't expect to find himself alone, and he was right. Even without onlining his optics, he could hear the quiet humming and clattering of a living system echoing in the near-silent room. It took a moment, but he convinced himself to face the waiting mech. He expected someone high ranked, and he wasn't disappointed. On the other side of the reactivated energy bars sat Jazz. The saboteur had drawn up a chair to the edge of the cell and sat watching him from his perch. He at least had the decency to wait until Skyfire sat up and reoriented himself before starting to speak.

"That was a stupid thin' ta try," he said blandly

Skyfire grimaced. "I know." He'd known it was unwise from the beginning, but he'd been desperate.

Jazz eyed him evenly, and Skyfire couldn't tell if he'd been surprised by his answer. Jazz continued speaking regardless. "Red sent out the alert soon as his cameras caught ya shuttin' down the bars. Interestin' trick ya had there, but not enough. There's a reason we've never lost a prisoner without outside interference before." He sighed. "An' ya'd been such a _calm _mech ta deal with 'fore that. What happened?"

Jazz let the silence stretch on for a moment before sighing and casually leaning back in his chair. "Well, ya got one thin' goin' for ya at least. That was probably the _least _destructive break-out attempt we've ever had. No real injuries, barely any destruction, an' ya gave the security team a nice workout. All in all, that's better'n what the Twins do half the time." He huffed a quiet laugh. "Yer a strange one, know that? Still not sure if that's a good or a bad thin'."

With that less than reassuring statement, Jazz turned around and left the room. A second Autobot—the talkative, yellow minibot—entered the room before the door could even closed and took his post at the guard's table without saying a word. The silence continued.

* * *

><p>…<p>

The pulses of spark-pain were coming more frequently.

The first intense pulse had started a cascade, and Skyfire could feel the spark-pain building as the cycles passed, following the old pattern from megavorns ago. It was stronger than it had been on Cybertron as well—stronger, even, than it had been on the Nemesis. Instead of dull, freezing aches that burst into brief, intense episodes, his spark flared with icy pain that never truly faded away and the episodes nearly crippled him with pain. Then it started getting worse. The flares began coming closer together and the intensity grew, and Skyfire could only wait helplessly and endure.

So long as Skyfire kept his vocalizer and frame locked, the guards didn't pay close enough attention to notice anything amiss. If they did, then they undoubtedly attributed the change to his botched escape attempt. Still, he knew it was only a matter of time before something—a stray sound, an unusually observant Autobot—gave him away. Of course, luck hadn't been on his side since their crash-landing on the organic planet.

For the first time since he'd met the mech, Skyfire wasn't happy to hear Bluestreak voice as he came in to take his shift. Out of all the mecha that could have been assigned guard duty, it had to be the only Autobot he routinely spoke with. If Bluestreak had come in even a solar cycle earlier, Skyfire could have probably faked it well enough to get by—Bluestreak only really needed the occasional question or comment and he'd be able to carry the conversation by himself. This time, however, Skyfire doubted he could do even that. The pain was starting to flare again, and it took far more effort than seemed possible to even return the mech's greeting.

Skyfire was lucky he'd thought to prop his frame against a corner of his cell while the pain was still manageable. He'd done it to have a vantage point that would allow him to keep an eye on the guards, but it also allowed him to give the illusion of listening to Bluestreak while he started to rambled. Within breems, Bluestreak was starting to fidget, sending Skyfire slightly confused, searching glances. Normally, Skyfire would have said something by then—a question, comment, something to add some direction to the aimless conversation. He needed to say something, but Skyfire still couldn't muster the energy to join the conversation. He could barely even keep track of the conversation, and soon enough he lost that as well.

The sound of Bluestreak's voice buzzed in his audios, and the words faded into an indecipherable drone. Only the pain was left. His spark felt like it was being slowly crushed in its chamber. He could feel each icy tendril as it stretched from his spark into the rest of his frame, every pulse of his spark spreading the pain deeper until nothing was left untouched. Next to that, thoughts of Bluestreak mattered little.

He only noticed the Praxian again when the constant stream of sound unexpectedly trickled away. Movement out of the corner of his optic revealed Bluestreak walking closer to the energy bars for a better look.

"Skyfire? Is something wrong?" he asked, eyeing Skyfire's plating rather obviously for evidence of some kind of injury as he spoke. "'Cause you're acting really differently and you don't look quite right."

Skyfire shook his head and managed to grunt out some sort of reassurance. At least, he thought he did—his systems were struggling enough that it was entirely possible the words never left his vocalizer. Either way, Bluestreak looked thoroughly unconvinced, but Skyfire couldn't muster the strength to try a second time. At this point, anything he tried was more likely to make him worry more anyway. Skyfire half-heard Bluestreak call his name again, but it sounded as if the Praxian was yelling from across the ship, not an arm's length away. His audios were starting to glitch. He filed the knowledge away as another problem he'd have to fix later, when he could think again.

His optics, at least, were still functioning, though the Autobot was the only interesting thing to see. He almost felt sorry for the youngling. He was so obviously distressed, taking aborted little half-steps forward and back as his worry for a fellow Cybertronian warred with well-deserved caution about dealing with a prisoner.

Skyfire contemplated trying to tell him not to worry, that the glitch would resolve itself soon enough, but if he onlined his vocalizer again, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep from voicing the pained sounds that kept trying to escape. Better to stay silent, then. Soon enough, he stopped worrying about Bluestreak or anything else outside of the pain. His entire world narrowed down to each harsh spark-pulse and the frozen agony centered in the broken bond. Time lost all meaning.

When the familiar electrical prickle of a medical scan washed over his frame, Skyfire didn't have the energy to shield himself from the energy pulse. It took his scattered processer several kliks to recognize the new mecha—Ratchet had arrived. The medic started cursing before the scan had even finished, and Skyfire felt familiar hands pulling him into a different position. His medical access port was opened, and Skyfire didn't have the strength to protest. Ratchet's consciousness barely had time to brush briefly against his own before medical overrides sent him offline.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Skyfire onlined with the same sluggish, clumsy response he always had after the glitch flared up. His processer felt disconnected from his frame, responding excruciatingly slow to his uncoordinated thoughts. It was an all too familiar feeling. He left his audios and optics off, unwilling to face the dizzying input from the weakened sensors, as he started running basic diagnostic on his chassis. His systems were almost always slightly damaged or compromised afterwards from the stress to his spark and frame.

To his surprise, everything he could access came back in perfect condition, save for the lingering abnormalities in his spark itself. Almost every system was recalibrating and stressed from the ordeal, but there was none of the actual damage he'd expected. Finally paying conscious attention to his other tactile sensors, he found that he was lying on a berth, likely a medical one again, with his hands restrained but otherwise unbound. The familiar, sterile scent of a med-bay surrounded him, confirming his suspicions. With an inward sigh—undoubtedly Ratchet would be waiting for him to online and looking for information—Skyfire reluctantly onlined his audios, and the furious sound of Ratchet's muttered rant reached him.

"-of all the idiotic, pit slagging things the glitch of a 'Con could possibly do…" the mech was saying, the steady stream of curses and insults punctuated by muffled clanks as the medic moved some type of equipment more forcefully than was normal.

It was the first time Ratchet's anger had been directed at him, but Skyfire was unexpectedly unconcerned about being the subject of his infamous temper. He was just… tired. Numb. Facing Ratchet's temper seemed almost superficial in the face of the spark pain. Besides, Ratchet had seen fit to repair whatever damage the glitch had caused, so it was unlikely he'd undo that effort. From what Skyfire had seen, the Autobot had better self-control than that.

Ratchet's wandering brought him closer, and Skyfire caught a brief snatch of his monologue as he moved past. "-didn't even know Decepticons _did _bond, and now look at what that-"

Ratchet continued ranting quietly to himself, but Skyfire didn't hear anything after he mentioned a bond. His chest felt hollow at the confirmation, though small pricks of trepidation stung his sensor net.

Ratchet knew. _Pit._

Bad enough the Autobots had found out he had the glitch. He'd still held onto the fragile hope that, maybe, the Autobot wouldn't care enough about their prisoner to look too deeply into what had caused it. The Decepticons certainly wouldn't have. Now he had to deal with the aftermath, and he didn't have a slagging clue how he was supposed to do that.

"You're online."

Ratchet's irate voice knocked him out of his frantic thoughts, snapping him jarringly back to reality. His optics blurred for a moment before focusing on Ratchet, chassis bristling and optics flaring in anger, standing almost directly next to his helm. He barely managed to hold back the instinctual flinch at the proximity and forced his systems to function normally despite the lingering stress on his spark.

"Do you have _any _idea what just happened to your systems?" the medic hissed. "Your spark nearly _sputtered _from the strain!"

Any other situation and Skyfire would have pretended to accept the criticism to prevent a conflict with the Autobot, but this was his _bond_ Ratchet was berating him about. Skyfire couldn't let that slide.

"I am a fully functional medic," Skyfire said tightly. "I know full well how this has affected my systems."

Ratchet threw up his arms in exasperation. "Then where in the Pit is your Bonded!" he cried. "Slaggit, even the '_Cons_ haveto know what'll happen if you mess with bondmates."

Skyfire's entire frame tensed at the rebuke, and in that moment he was almost glad for the restraints. If he'd been free, he might have done something… unwise before he regained control of his temper. Ratchet was treating him as if he'd had a _choice _about the broken bond, as if Skyfire hadn't been living with the pain since before the Great War began. He wanted that self-righteous attitude _gone_.

"Deactivated," he spat, delighting in the way the medic reared back as if struck. The incessant tirade abruptly gave way to silence as Ratchet froze. Shock quickly gave way to an almost confused pensiveness, and Ratchet just stared at him for a moment as if trying to figure out if he was telling the truth.

"You really-" he started, but then he stopped, looking at him with that indecipherable look on his face. "_Slag._" He abruptly spun around and stalked off to the other side of the room, muttering heatedly to himself as he returned to the small desk of tools he'd been at when Skyfire first onlined.

Skyfire's anger slowly fizzled away with the distance, and he watched the medic fumbling with his tools across the room. That… hadn't been the reaction he'd expected. He'd never seen Ratchet walk away from a patient before. Even when Sideswipe had been needling the medic into retaliation or questioning his attitude, Ratchet had stayed beside him and matched him insult for insult. Compared to that exchange, Skyfire's reaction was barely even notable. Yet, it had managed to physically drive Ratchet away. Against his will, Skyfire felt a pang of trepidation shoot through him. What in the Pit was going on, and what did it have to do with the bond?

It barely took a quarter breem before Ratchet turned back around and looked at him again, but it felt like far longer. Ratchet was uncharacteristically solemn as he walked slowly back to Skyfire's berth. After that reaction, Skyfire was surprised he didn't just cut the restraints and order him back to the cell to save him the trouble of further interaction. Ratchet seemed determined to stick it out though—whatever 'it' was.

"Ah, pit," he muttered, rubbing his face irritably. He paused for a moment, steeling himself, before continuing. "The spark bond's still intact."

Slag. He'd hoped the medic would have abandoned that line of thought after the way the last conversation about it had ended. Why couldn't the medic just leave it alone? "So?"

"_So_ it's impossible for your bondmate to be dead."

Silence. Skyfire felt his processer go completely blank for a moment as the statement sunk in.

"You-" he started, but cold fury cut off his vocals. He started again, voice dangerously soft. "I felt him die, _felt _his spark go out, and you dareto tell me I'm wrong? That it didn't _happen?_"

He took back every charitable thought, every allowance he'd ever given to the Autobot. Any mech sadistic enough to use a broken sparkbond for his own slagging _amusement _barely even deserved to be called Cybertronian. Using it for some kind of manipulation would be almost worse. You didn't mess with sparkbonds. Not even the Great War had managed to crush that sacred ideal; you didn't separate sparkbound bots or abuse a bond. It was like intentionally harming a youngling—repugnant in every sense of the word. Ratchet was apparently one of the few that had managed to override that particular moral code.

Ratchet's frame hardened at the accusation, armor clamped tightly against his chassis, but the unnamed emotion stayed infuriatingly on his face. "I'm _telling y_ou what I saw when I found the signs of a sparkbond, and it's impossible for the damage to have been caused by your bondmate's death," he said carefully. "Broken bonds are obvious—and they don't cause whatever _that _was." He breathed in heavily, meeting Skyfire's optics with a heavy intensity that was far too close to true sincerity. "I'm telling you as a medic—I swear it on my spark and vows. Your systems were reacting to a bond forced far past its breaking point by isolation and who knows what else—but not a fully broken one. I don't know what you felt or why you think he deactivated, but, whether you believe me or not, that's what I found."

His tone was enough to freeze the sudden flare of fury in its tracks. Ratchet was every inch the Iacon-trained medic he'd been since before the war—coolly professional in every sense of the word and serious in a way he'd only experienced once before, from the medics that had treated him after Starscream's deactivation. Skyfire searched Ratchet's frame almost desperately for some sign of the deception and found none. For a moment, fear trickled in and settled heavily against his core.

"You're lying," Skyfire whispered unevenly.

He had to be. Because if he was telling the truth… If Ratchet was right about the bond and the glitches, and Skyfire truly had misjudged what he'd felt... It would mean Starscream had been _alive _for hundreds of thousands of vorns, and Skyfire had _left_ him there. Had _ignored_ every sign the sparkbond had shown him and left his bondmate to rust, frozen in the arctic wasteland where he'd crashed.

And Skyfire couldn't accept that.

"YOU PIT-SLAGGING _GLITCH!_" he roared. He tried to push himself away from the berth, intent on punching the lying slagger, but the restraints on his wrist jerked him back down before he got a foot off the surface. Ratchet lurched backwards with a startled oath at the unexpected movement, but Skyfire didn't stop. He yanked on the metal bindings, using his full strength for one of the few times in his entire existence.

How dare he. How _dare_ he try to use the bond against him like that. Taunt him with Starscream, with the very idea that he might somehow still be online after all these vorns. He didn't know what the slag the medic was hoping to accomplish by trying to manipulate his emotions, and he didn't care. The only thing he could think about was making him pay for what he'd tried to do. Make him feel even a fraction of the pain of the empty bond.

How _dare_ Ratchet taunt him with even the smallest sliver of hope that he could ever see Starscream again.

Metal shrieked as it started to give way under his strength, and Ratchet let out a new round of curses beside him. New voices entered the room in blurs of frantic movement and solid hands that forced him back down, but Skyfire didn't even glance at them. He had optics only for the medic. Even as someone behind him stuck a needle between the armor on his neck and the world started to darken, Skyfire refused to relinquish the locked gaze between them. As the tranquilizer forced his systems to shut down one by one, the last thing he saw was Ratchet's conflicted blue optics staring back at him.

~.*.~

**AN**: Yay, plot :). Quick plot point to explain the timeline: the only real change I'm making is that Fire in the Sky never happened. Starscream crashed in a different area than Skyfire would have, thus the 'Cons never randomly stumbled upon him. So, Skyfire's actually been on Earth for a while now—long enough for the Aerialbots to be created, anyway.

Also kudos to peanut_gallery, who noticed a mistake last chapter—the Aerialbots are not, actually, the only Autobot flyers on Earth. I'd completely forgotten about the existence of Powerglide and Cosmos. Oops. Let's just say Cosmos is in space enough Skyfire doesn't know about him, but I honestly know nothing about Powerglide.


	15. Grim Conversations

Tangled Destiny

Ch 15: Grim Conversations

* * *

><p><strong>Story-Relevant AN<strong>: A couple weeks ago, I added a scene to last chapter. It doesn't really affect the plot, though it is briefly mentioned. There's a longer summary at the end of this chapter, but all you need to know is that Skyfire tried to escape after the first minor glitch, failed, and Mirage helped foil the attempt.

* * *

><p>When Skyfire onlined again, he was back in the familiar darkness of the brig. He was lying on his berth again, and for the first time in solar cycles his hands were again bound with a pair of energon cuffs. The attempt to damage the medic had apparently warranted that precaution where even foolhardy escape attempt had failed. As he slowly sat up, the noise of his hydraulics compressing was loud in the cloying silence.<p>

Rage still lingered on the edges of his processer, but it no longer clouded his processer or controlled his actions. The all-consuming anger had burned itself out sometime during his unconsciousness, though the remaining fury had coiled deep in his chest, dormant for now. He could think now, at least, even if he wanted to flinch away from the topic.

He couldn't help himself. Before even glancing around the cell, he was offlining his optics again and probing at his spark, actually looking at the bond instead of torturing himself with the sensation. It sent a convulsive stab of pain to his processer, which he tuned out with the ease of long practice. Instead of focusing on the torn edges and the haunting absence, he probed the very end of the bond, where Starscream had once resided so long ago.

It felt like a solid wall. Empty. Blocked off. The bond just abruptly ended, and he felt the familiar faint shiver of crippling cold as he mentally pressed up against it. The bond ached with renewed pain, but Skyfire ignored it.

It _felt _like Starscream had deactivated. Nothing of Starscream was left in the bond, no shadow of emotion or flicker of warmth. His spark was just gone from the bond, as it had been for millennia. Yet, his end of the bond still remained anchored to his spark, even without Starscream inside it. Nobody else was visibly watching him, judging his reaction, so he put his helm in his hand and forced himself to think.

It was startling to realize he really didn't know what broken bonds were supposed to feel like. He knew the topic had been researched extensively before the war, but he hadn't had the spark to investigate it after the crash and it hadn't seemed appropriate when the bond was still whole and bursting with life. This emptiness and unbreakable wall was what he'd always assumed a broken bond was. It sure as Pit felt broken, and he'd never even heard of anything else that could block a bond like that

And yet… he and Starscream had been interplanetary explorers. They'd never lived ordinary lives, and he knew better than anyone how much he didn't know. He wasn't even a certified medic, let alone any kind of expert on sparks. His judgment of the bond was based on emotion and assumptions, and he knew how dangerous any decision based solely on those could be. Uncertainty wormed its way into his spark, cracking the conviction that had always surrounded that knowledge. Skyfire didn't like it.

He took his hand away from where it had been clenched against his chest and straightened again, unsure of when he'd started to curl around his spark. He clenched his hands together in his lap and steeled his emotions, refusing to allow his inner turmoil to reach the surface.

He was a Decepticon. A soldier. He would not be _weak. _He refused to let any of the Autobots see just how deeply he'd been affected.

If the Autobot was tricking him, he would not give them the satisfaction of seeing him fall apart. He would _not _let them win. Not when they'd already taken so much and his weakness was one of the few things they could get out of the deception. If Ratchet had brought up the bond to off balance him or make him more vulnerable, then he wouldn't allow them to see how well it had worked.

Still, even as he hardened himself against emotion, doubt managed to remain.

Ratchet had little to gain from such a deception and more to lose. If knowledge about abusing a spark-bond got out, it would destroy his reputation and the trust of his patients. Skyfire didn't know much about the inner workings of the Autobots, but he knew that was true. From what he'd seen, Ratchet hadn't seemed like the kind of mech who would reject fundamental ethics. He'd seen mecha like that, worked with them during the war. Some of them had been skilled at deception, but hatred like that couldn't stay hidden for long. There had always been signs, some subtle, others not, that gave them away

Ratchet had been… not quite kind, but not needlessly cruel either. He hadn't the false, fleeting saccharinity of a mech trying to lure someone into complacency, and Skyfire hadn't found any cracks in Ratchet's character where hints of malice or disgust should have shone through. There hadn't been any 'mistakes' while Ratchet repaired him or any subtle tricks that could have easily been disguised as simple carelessness. Nothing at all had happened until Ratchet discovered the glitch.

Of course, Ratchet did have an infamous reputation for cruelty and tempter. Skyfire had grown skeptical about the truth of the rumors, but he could've been wrong. Maybe Ratchet really was just one of the most talented liars he'd ever encountered and Skyfire had foolishly allowed himself to be deceived.

But maybe he wasn't.

If Ratchet was, somehow, telling the truth? If Starscream was still online and Skyfire just refused to believe it? He couldn't imagine anything worse than realizing he'd been mistaken about Starscream's deactivation only after his spark actually extinguished.

He smiled humorlessly. If this was a trap, then it was a slagging good one. They'd chosen the one thing he couldn't afford to risk ignoring.

A soft scuff from outside the cell sounded in the silence, and Skyfire jerked back to reality. He immediately glanced passed the energy bars and found the mech standing behind them. Mirage looked back. It was the first time Skyfire had seen him since his botched escape attempt, though Skyfire wasn't surprised. After trying to attack their head medic, no wonder they'd sent a SpecOps mech to watch him. It didn't matter to him either way; SpecOps, grunt—he was stuck behind the bars for the foreseeable future regardless of who stood outside the cell.

The sound must have been intentional, a way to get his attention; Mirage was too experienced to make such a rookie mistake. So Skyfire gave him his full attention, waiting for the mech to speak. Mirage accepted his focus with a gracious nod of his head.

"Shall I contact Ratchet for you?" Mirage asked. "He left instructions stating he wishes to finish his inspection of your frame after that malfunction you suffered."

His voice was as crisply polite as he would have expected from a former Noble, though Skyfire could sense a faint hint of curiosity that the mech kept well hidden. Skyfire eyed him warily. Did he know? Had Ratchet already shared the secret he'd stumbled upon to the rest of the Autobots? Was Mirage staring at him any differently than he had the previous times he'd seen the mech, or was it just his imagination? His spark rolled with unease, but he didn't forget the question.

Ratchet wanted to see him again. And… he needed to speak with Ratchet again too. Needed to decide whether the Autobot was telling the truth or bluffing, and that would be was the only way. He needed proof—definite, concrete proof—that this was all a trick before he could let it go without second-guessing himself into insanity.

"Yes," Skyfire finally replied, long after the pause in the conversation stretched uncomfortably. "Please inform Ratchet I wish to speak with him again."

Mirage nodded, and he stilled for a moment as he accessed his internal com system. "Done," he said after a brief pause. "Ratchet will arrive momentarily."

Mirage backed ever-so-politely away to a more comfortable distance, near where the guards usually sat. He stayed standing and covertly watching him, but Skyfire ignored him in favor of figuring out exactly what he was going to say to Ratchet.

His thoughts were still messy, jumbled things, trapped by emotion and jumping through speculation and plots without direction. He couldn't face Ratchet like that. Not if he wanted to get anything useful out of the conversation. So he systematically cut off every aimless, unhelpful line of thought until his mind was clearer and remaining thoughts sharper. It helped. He still didn't feel prepared for the conversation.

True to his word, Ratchet strode into the room not even a breem after Mirage had contacted him. His face was tight, mouth firmly set in a thin line, and armor held rigidly against his frame. He stopped directly in front of the bars between the two of them and stared inscrutably in. After a moment, he glanced briefly at Mirage, who was still waiting and quietly observing from a respectful distance away.

"Mirage. Out."

Mirage inclined his head courteously and swept out of the doorway, keying it shut behind him. The room seemed tenser without his presence as a buffer. Skyfire waited for the medic to make his move, but he only stared silently inward. Eventually, Skyfire gave in.

"I want an explanation," Skyfire said as calmly as he could. Some of his impatience still leaked into his voice.

Ratchet sighed and passed a hand over his helm, looking surprisingly weary. "You'll get one, don't worry. As much as I'm capable of giving you anyway."

"Then _explain._"

The order visibly rankled Ratchet's pride, but he held back his undoubtedly crude initial response. A small part of Skyfire was almost disappointed. Ratchet's appearance had fed the deep well of anger still burning in his chest, and he would have enjoyed the chance to yell at the mech again. Still, getting information was far more important than working out some aggression, so he held his tongue.

Ratchet straightened, taking on a familiar, authoritative stance Skyfire recognized from other Academy-certified medics he'd encountered. When he started speaking, his voice held the crisp, neutral tone of a semi-official medical report.

"When I responded to Bluestreak's call, several of your systems were already entering the first stages of shutdown. I determined the problem was spark-based and, after doing minor repairs on your fuel system and internal temperature controls, had you transferred into my med-bay so I could access my machinery. Your vitals continued to drop so I ran a spark-scan to determine the cause." He paused, meeting Skyfire's optics seriously. "I found that your spark had gone into distress caused by the strain of supporting a vastly weakened bond. The bond was still anchored to your spark, but it was severely damaged and the connection weakened."

"I did what I could to offset the damage and waited for the glitch to work itself out. Your spark readings eventually returned to normal levels, though the bond remained as-" he made a sharp, searching gesture, as if struggling to encompass the scope of the problem. "_fragmented _as it had been before. Judging by the state of the bond, I'm guessing this isn't the first time this has happened, and it won't be the last." He hesitated for a moment before asking, "How long has it been?"

Skyfire didn't answer. Unless Ratchet proved he wasn't making it up as he went along, Skyfire wasn't going to give him any information about the bond. So far, Ratchet hadn't managed to prove anything yet, save that he knew the basics about spark-bonds.

"_Fine," _Ratchet huffed._ "_Judging from the extent of the degradation, it has to have been at least megavorns. Maybe longer. Which is just…" He broke off with a disgusted grumble about careless medics not worth their markings. "How didn't anyone catch it before it got so far?"

"Spark-scans aren't customarily given after a broken bond has settled. The medics who repaired me had no reason to doubt my report."

The scans were rarely performed at all out of respect, barring incidents of known spark-damage or potential deactivation. By the time Skyfire had reached Cybertron again, enough time had passed that his spark had stabilized and nothing else could have been done. Spark damage was permanent, after all—few people choose to allow such an invasive scan when there were alternatives, and he'd been no different.

Ratchet eyed him speculatively, and the harsh angles of his face deepened. "You don't believe me," he stated. It wasn't a question.

Stony silence.

Ratchet snorted. "I can't really blame you. You have questions. Ask away."

He leaned backwards against the wall and crossed his arms, challenging Skyfire to prove him wrong. Contrary to Skyfire's expectations, Ratchet actually seemed serious. He'd expected Ratchet to control the conversation as much as he could and fight for every scrap of information, not give him free reign to ask uncomfortable questions. It should have been a small, valuable victory for him, but it didn't feel like it.

He decided to start with something simple. "So what happens to a sparkbond when one of them deactivates?" he asked.

"It breaks." Ratchet answered immediately. "Without the second spark to anchor the bond, it begins to dissolve almost immediately and is gone within kliks. Causes some severe spark-damage and scaring, which can lead to deactivation of the remaining bondmate. Even if he survives, the damage is permanent and very distinctive."

"What would cause a bond to deteriorate instead?"

Ratchet hesitated minutely, and Skyfire could see how carefully he was choosing his words. "In most cases, distance. If two bondmates are far enough apart physically for long enough, then the connection becomes strained and the bond begins to weaken. The longer the bond is left to fade, the worse it becomes."

"But that would take time. Decline gradually."

"Yes."

So that was it, then. Ratchet really was just toying with him, trying to use his false assumptions about the bond to trick him. His spark ached dully at the confirmation. He'd refused to let himself hope Ratchet was telling the truth, but it stung to be proven right regardless.

He turned away from Ratchet, disappointed. "If that is all, then I would like you to-"

"I said that was the most common way, not the only one," Ratchet interrupted sharply. Against his better judgment, Skyfire hesitated. He put a hand against the wall beside him, letting the cool metal anchor him and help stabilize the jumble of emotions in his spark.

Ratchet continued quickly, pushing to make his point before losing Skyfire's attention again. "There's another quicker, but far rarer, way to block a bond. If a mech is seriously damaged, then their systems and spark can become weak enough to stop registering with their bondmate's. Once they're deep enough in stasis, it essentially shuts down the bond. Deactivation or recovery almost always follows soon after, and the bond either completely breaks or is restored to normal functioning."

He paused, wrestling with something invisible, before continuing. "I saw it happen once, long before the war. Half of a bonded pair had been crippled, and most of his systems were failing or already gone. He was weak and in one of the deepest stasis I've ever seen. The other mech thought his bonded had deactivated joors before it actually happened. Attacked the medic that tried to tell him otherwise. Turns out, it's possible, if exceedingly rare, for a spark to register as so weak that it no longer registers even in a spark-bond. There were some studies into it, back when something like that was possible, but nothing came of it. Theoretically, if the stasis continued without the spark strengthening or extinguishing, the state would eventually lead to the same degradation as any other long-term separation between bondmates."

Skyfire froze as soon as soon as Ratchet mentioned stasis. A cold weight settled in his core, and his plating tensed against his frame. His entire processer focused on Ratchet, listening and analyzing and dissecting every word.

He'd never heard of a spark being too weak to support a bond. Then again, he knew firsthand how bond strength fluctuated depending on circumstances. The changes had been small, but the bond had been strongest when Starscream was online and beside him and would fade into the background when the Seeker was unconscious. But even with half a world of distance between them, he had never lost the warmth of Starscream's spark until that day in the storm. He didn't know what to think anymore. When he continued to speak, his voice was empty, completely at odds with the emotional maelstrom within.

"What kind of damage would send a mech into that kind of stasis?" His voice wavered slightly at the end, and he prayed Ratchet hadn't caught the incriminatory slip. Thankfully, he didn't seem to have noticed the subtle sign that he'd stumbled too close to the truth.

Ratchet grimaced. "I'm not an expert on this," he warned. "I'd only heard of a handful of cases, and they were all vastly different from one other. It… seemed to be any damage critical enough to start shutting down systems but not immediately fatal. Usually, some outside influence, either medically or environmentally induced, delayed spark extinguishment long enough to create the lag."

The storm. The thick layers of ice encasing the surface of the planet. Extreme cold could preserve processer capabilities and major systems better than any other element. If Starscream had survived the initial crash, he would have quickly been buried under layers of ice and snow. In the dark, silent orns drifting through space after losing Starscream, Skyfire had spent far too much time dwelling on what would befall his bondmate's frame. Friction from the impact would have melted the surrounding ice, leaving loose water to infiltrate joints and circuitry before freezing again. The expanding ice would cause minor system damage, but Cybertronian frames were too resilient to be broken so easily. Not at first, anyway.

Without a spark, a deactivated frame was brittle. It decayed, rusted, fell apart without spark-energy present to energize it. Any spark, no matter how weak, stabilized the frame and kept it alive. Deactivated, Starscream would have started fallen apart within megavorns. Yet… if his spark still pulsed, his frame could survive the eons with only moderate damage, and his frame was tougher than most. It was—had been—standard procedure to install specialized armor on interstellar explorers considering the hazards of space travel. Starscream's in particular had been designed for speed, efficiency, and endurance to fit his frametype. Assuming the crash didn't deactivate him, it would be a long, long time before ice and ill-maintenance killed him.

Something rattled against the wall beside him, and Skyfire was surprised to see fine tremors wracking his arm, causing the thin platting of his hand to clatter against the metal. Huh. His hands were shaking, electrical hiccups dancing across his motor controls. He clenched the digits into a fist, but that didn't stop the tremble.

Only Skywarp and Thundercracker knew what had happened to Starscream. Nothing else—not the medical files, Iacon's records, or even the medics who'd treated him—knew about the crash and the ice. Ratchet couldn't possibly know the circumstances. He couldn't have intentionally shaped his explanation around the crash. It could still be a guess, formed of observation and careful calculations, but the details matched up too exactly to be the random guess he still he half-expected it was.

Which suggested Ratchet might be telling the truth about sparkbonds.

Ratchet was still watching him silently. Skyfire could feel his optics on him—observing, analyzing, _judging. _ "Skyfire…" Ratchet started hesitantly. He looked uncertain; the emotion fit him poorly.

"Leave." The word came out stronger than Skyfire had intended, choked with emotion. His next try was better, more controlled. "Just—go. Please."

Ratchet left.

The security camera still flashed from its corner of the room, but no other Autobot came in immediately to replace him. Skyfire was inordinately grateful for the illusion of privacy. He couldn't endure having the helplessness of his captivity thrown so bluntly into his face, not then. The walls pressed in on him, and the spark-deep _need _to move, to escape from the prison and fly far away, blazed to life in his chest. He forced the sensation away, burying it deep inside his mental walls where it couldn't influence his actions. Instead, he looked inward.

The bond was sore and sensitive from the glitch, and every touch sent sharp spikes of pain radiating across his frame. He released a short breath and probed carefully forward, nudging past sensitive edges as carefully as he could. He ran into the familiar, biting wall quickly, but this time he didn't let the frozen ache and emptiness stop him. He pressed his consciousness up against the blockage and _pushed._

His spark flared in its chamber, and he hissed at the sudden, pulsing pain. He kept pushing. He'd endured worse pain than this for lesser causes, and he would not let simple pain stop him. Familiar waves of ice crept into his spark and enveloped his spark. Error messages built up in his processer as his systems reacted, and he dismissed them with a thought. He wondered absentmindedly if it was possible to trigger the glitch by pushing too far and how much damage two major glitches so close together could do, but the thought seemed unimportant. Hard-earned determination kept him moving forward, digging deeper into the far end of the closed bond than he'd dared go before.

The emptiness—the sheer _absence _of everything the bond should have been—tore at him as much as the physical pain. He spared an unused processer thread to lock down his motor controls when his frame started to react involuntarily to the spark-stress but otherwise ignored the effects. He would keep looking until he'd searched every crevice of the bond or the limits of his frame dragged him back against his will. So he filled the bond with as much of himself as he could, forcing warmth into the long-dormant bond and pulsing his presence as far as he could. He searched for what felt like breems, until his spark felt raw and abused, and he still kept going.

Something pulsed back.

It was the faintest whisper of sensation, a pale echo of awareness barely even strong enough to register, but it was something other than the cold and pain and emptiness surrounding him. The echo flickered and died as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Skyfire grasping at nothing.

He chased after the fleeting warmth with everything he had, pushing himself far past his normal limits until each thought made his helm burn with pressure, but he could feel his frame weakening. Every klik made it harder to push through the edges of the bond and increased the strain on the rest of his frame. He was being torn away from the far edges of the bond, and the degraded connection had nothing for him to hold onto. His very spark was starting to fight against him, condensing inward defensively to protect itself from further damage. Skyfire couldn't fight forever. Eventually, he was forced to admit defeat—he could barely even touch his side of the bond anymore, let alone the far edges along the block.

His frame started shaking again as he released the restrictions on his motor control, and he collapsed gratefully against the cool metal of his berth. His entire frame ached from the strain of pushing his spark so far, and his processer was already beginning to shut down against his will so his self-repair could work. He didn't have time to think or plan or try to work past the thoughtless shock of what he'd felt. He could only clutch desperately at the memory of finding _something _at the end of the bond. It had been so weak—barely a flicker of warmth, not even a true thought or brush of emotion. It hadn't been _enough. _He couldn't even tell if the faint flicker had been Starscream or some imagined illusion born of desperation. As he sank into the darkness of unconsciousness, one last question passed through his mind.

What would he sacrifice to have Starscream back with him?

The answer came immediately, ripped from the deepest corner of his spark and nurtured by the endless pain of an empty bond.

_Anything._

* * *

><p>…<p>

Skyfire came back to awareness with a sudden jerk that nearly sent him tumbling off the edge of the small berth. He _hurt,_ and it took a klik for his memories to click back into place. He pressed a hand over his chest, where the pain was strongest. His spark ached fiercely with every pulse of life, and even brushing lightly against the bond made powerful pain flare up across his sensor net. He nearly tried to press into the bond regardless, but common sense stopped him before he could do any further damage.

He'd felt _something _at the edges of the bond. The memory file was crisp and clear despite the pain and he reviewed it almost desperately. It still wasn't enough—even in the memory, the flicker of sensation was too weak, too fleeting for him to determine anything. It could have been Starscream. It also could have been an echo of his own spark or a remnant of coding lost in the bond. He just didn't _know, _and it would be orns before his spark recovered enough to try again_._

Ratchet had hit too close to the truth, and whatever he'd felt in the bond was too close to proof for him to dismiss; Skyfire couldn't ignore him and wait passively for his situation to change anymore. The thought of remaining in the cell and doing nothing while Starscream's frame was only a few cycle's flight away was almost physically painful and completely unacceptable.

Had Skyfire still been free, he would go search the artic for his bondmate's frame and slag the consequences. The smallest suggestion that Starscream might be online was enough to take that risk. If he could just send a transmission to Skywarp and Thundercracker, he knew they would go as well. _If_. Of course, he couldn't. His 'com system was fully locked down now, and he had no chance of convincing his captors to open a link to the Nemesis for him.

Too many paths were closed to him, but he couldn't just give up. Not after this. He didn't know when—or if—he might be released. Megatron might never deign to negotiate. Skywarp and Thundercracker would likely attempt a rescue eventually, but without the support of the rest of the army their chances of success were low. Unless the Autobots came up with some plot involving him, he'd probably be put into an induced stasis until something changed so they didn't have to waste fuel and energy on him. Anything could happen in that time.

If broken bonds truly were significantly different from what had happened, then he would feel the difference when Starscream actually deactivated. It had been centrivorns since the crash—Cybertronian frames were durable, but they couldn't last forever. The bond had been fraying, _weakening _as time passed. He'd assumed it was the bond fading naturally without Starscream supporting the other end, but what if it was a reaction to Starscream's fading spark? Even if Starscream had managed to survive for this long, his spark might not last the vorns Skyfire would likely be put into stasis for. Skyfire clenched his fist, barely resisting from striking out against the berth beneath him.

Two paths stretched out before him, both equally uncertain and equally likely to end in disaster. They were still the best plans he could come up with.

He could tell the Autobots about Starscream. Let them know where he'd crashed. If Ratchet was telling the truth about the bond, they'd likely feel honor-bound to recover his frame. However… his processer balked at the idea of letting some stranger –worse, an enemy soldier—find Starscream first. If he did that, then _they _would be the ones to watch him online for the first time in millennia, speak with him first, fill his processer with lies or their version of the truth. They'd let him see Starscream eventually, but it would be on the Autobots' terms, whatever they may be.

He couldn't survive seeing, _feeling _Starscream back online and putting his fate in another's hands. It would still be better—_far _better—than having no Starscream at all, but it was one of the worst scenarios to have Starscream back in.

The second option was equally terrible, in its own way. He lacked the leverage he needed if he wanted any kind of foothold concerning Starscream, but that didn't mean he couldn't create his own. He wasn't strong or highly ranked or privy to the plots and schemes of High Command, but he wasn't useless either—he'd been a medic, and a highly ranked one at that. He knew how to negotiate. He just needed to determine what he was willing to negotiate with.

He weighed both options equally, giving the consequences full consideration. He had time to think. He spent almost a cycle just running calculations and scenarios, extrapolating from the little confirmed data he had regarding the Autobots.

Finally, he sat up, groaning as his frame protested the movement. Self-repair had fixed most of the minor damage from forcing his frame so far the night before, but the new patches still needed time to integrate properly. The constant, dull ache from his spark only compounded the problem. He swung his legs over the side of the berth and kept stretching them until the pain and stiffness faded into a dull throb.

The guard table was occupied, as he'd expected. The cheerful yellow minibot was back, sitting at the lone chair and focused on a datapad in his hands. He glanced over as Skyfire sat up, but his attention quickly returned to his datapad. Skyfire didn't catch his attention again until he was standing by the bars. The minibot set his datapad down and stood up, optics focused on the cell. A well-maintained rifle was lying obtrusively next to his hand.

Skyfire took a deep, fortifying breath and started to speak.

"I would like to arrange an audience with Optimus Prime."

~.*.~

**AN:**

I feel like I just committed some fanfiction faux pas, but I ended up adding another semi-long scene to last chapter. A reviewer from last chapter—Krista79—made a comment that got me thinking, and I realized what was missing from last chapter. Skyfire now has a failed escape attempt under his belt, because no prison story is complete without one. It doesn't actually impact the plot or any other scene, but I thought it did fit better with the character and situation. For those who want to go back and read it, the new scene is just after the first minor glitch. For those who don't, here's a short summary—Skyfire manages to use his knowledge of Decepticon cells to hack his room, knocks out his guard, and manages to make it into the halls before being cornered by Mirage and disabled. He then wakes up in his cell and has a short conversation with Jazz, who is as interested in how Skyfire did no lasting damage as he is in the actual escape attempt.

Also, sorry for the delay in posting. I don't think I've ever written, re-written, and deleted so many words in a chapter before. This was probably the hardest chapter of the story for me so far :(. Let me know if any part of the chapter seemed off or repetitive, or if you think doing something another way would have worked better.

One last warning—I'm heading off to my first year of college next week, and I don't know how that'll affect my updating schedule. I'm very hopeful I'll be able to post on time again, but there might be a short delay while I'm getting used to college life.


	16. Reminiscence

Tangled Destiny

Ch. 16: Reminiscence

* * *

><p>…<p>

Optimus Prime lived up to his weighty title. He was a tall mech, nearly as large as Skyfire himself, with thick, warrior-grade plating and enough corporeal strength to grapple Megatron to a standstill. Bold colors streaked his frame and shone in the artificial light. His frame filled the room, and it was more than just his physical size. The Prime had a presence about him. Now, standing in front of him for the first time, Skyfire could almost feel why so many mecha had been draw to his cause. If reminded him somewhat of how standing before Megatron for the first time had felt, yet… different. Softer, maybe, though it still had that same undercurrent of steel conviction.

He hadn't expected the Prime to make a small gesture that had Ironhide grunting unhappily and reaching over to fiddle with his stasis locks. Then he felt the cuffs deactivate, sending strange prickles up his arms as normal function resumed. Skyfire hesitantly lowered his hands to his sides and shook them out in short, quick motions, watching both Autobots carefully to make sure they wouldn't object to the movement.

He was even more surprised when the guard turned and left the room, letting the metal door slide closed behind them. Grateful as he was for the privacy, he hadn't expected to be left alone, especially not unchained. Regardless, the Prime's confidence was justified—trying to attack him would be like trying to attack Megatron barehanded; a suicidally bad idea. But chains and restraints were a statement of power as much as a safety precaution. The Prime could have easily come to see Skyfire still trapped and chained inside the prison block. He didn't know what it said about the leader that he'd chosen this scenario instead.

The Prime motioned him forward, gesturing towards a seat in front of his desk, and Skyfire reluctantly obeyed. It was a normal chair—strictly utilitarian, as all furniture was now, and unsteady enough it creaked under his weight—and he sat gingerly on its edges, unwilling to get comfortable. The Prime was still watching him quietly, and Skyfire had to force himself not to fidget under his heavy gaze.

Skyfire took a deep, steadying breath. Then he started to speak. "I would like to negotiate a deal with you, Prime," he said. "I assume Ratchet has informed you about what he discovered?" He was proud of how calm and controlled he managed to hold his voice.

The Prime inclined his head "After Ratchet was forced to sedate you, he informed me of the cause. Rest assured that he and I are the only ones who know of this."

Surprisingly, the reassurance did actually help. It was the way Optimus said it—sincerity seemed to waft off of him—that made Skyfire almost believe him. Better that only two should know than an entire army, his most precious secret passed around like idle gossip. Two was still two too many, but it was better.

Clenching his hands together to stop them from shaking, Skyfire started his story. "You chose to come close to this planet due to old maps from the former Iacon Academy, correct? It would have been marked as among the only stable, viably close planets containing vast amounts of energy without a sentient species to claim it. One of the few such planets in existence."

It was the only reasonable explanation that would have led the Autobots to the same planet where Starscream had crashed. Random chance was laughably unlikely. Earth had been deemed too far away to be considered for casual energy harvesting, but that had been a long time ago, before the war made every scrap of energy valuable. The Autobots must have stumbled across the old account and determined the lure of extensive amounts of energy worth the risk.

Prime was silent for a moment, optics dark. "Yes. How did you know that?" Suspicion marked his words, and Skyfire was quick to assuage it.

"Because my partner and I were the ones who marked it. We were… interplanetary explorers back then, and this was one of the areas we charted. The planet was younger back then, with far less stable atmospheric patterns than you are accustomed to. While we were investigating the northern pole of this planet, a large, powerful storm developed around us with little warning. My partner crashed and was lost." Skyfire had to pause a moment to work through the emotion that seemed lodged in his vocalizer. "I had believed him deactivated."

Skyfire watched the Prime anxiously for any sign of what he was thinking. He needed to be able to make the Prime see that it made sense for Starscream to be on this planet, that this wasn't another desperate grab for freedom. Did he believe him, or had the mech already calculated the probabilities and decided he had just created the story as a convenient excuse? The Prime continued to watch him just as inscrutably, and Skyfire was the first to look away.

Skyfire continued softly. "The malfunction I had was one of many that have occurred since the crash, and originates from the bond. I had believed it to be some sort of sensory echo from his deactivation. Ratchet told me that the damage he found to the sparkbond was consistent with what happens when one of the bondmates is deep in stasis. Not deactivated. "

One last breath. One last chance to back out. He didn't take it.

"I am willing to make a deal with you," he stated quietly. "If Ratchet is correct, then my sparkmate has remained in stasis on this planet for thousands of megavorns. Allow me to search for him, and I will tell you anything you with to know about the 'Cons after his recovery. " He offered the Prime a grim smile; more of a grimace, really. "I believe you will not find my knowledge lacking. I've served as one of only two certified medics aboard the Flagship for nearly a vorn now. Weapon schematics, frametype designs and flaws, coding weaknesses… My position has given me access to many things that could give you an advantage."

He paused for a moment to let that sink in.

"However. If we find him and you're _wrong_, we will give what remains of his frame a proper burial. Then I will swear an oath. If you are trying to manipulate the bond, then I swear I will hunt down everyone and everything involved in the deception or die in the attempt."

It was foolish to threaten his captors. He knew it was. Yet, the thought that the Autobots were lying about this made his frame burn with anger. For once in his life, he truly meant the threat; he would do whatever it took to get revenge on the mecha who would abuse a broken bond by trying to make him think his bonded was still online.

The Prime stilled at the warning, but he didn't look like he was about to punish him for his impertinence. Instead, he almost seemed to _acknowledge _the threat as if it was only to be expected.

"Ratchet would not deceive you about something like this, nor would I authorize any such orders."

He said it with such iron conviction that Skyfire was tempted to believe him. There was a reason bonds were so highly revered by their species, after all. Even before the war, it had always been rare for two bots to permanently tie their sparks together in a bond. Less than a half of a percent of their population had found that sort of connection, excluding the Seekers with their unique trinebond, and the ratio had undoubtedly shrunken even further during the war. Regardless, the war had changed many things.

"I have no reason to trust your word," Skyfire countered. "Time will determine what the truth is."

"So it will," the Prime murmured softly. "I cannot in good conscience prevent you from searching for your bondmate, but you've placed me in a difficult position. You realize that we would be unable to trust you either?"

That was just stating the obvious. He was still a prisoner, whatever pretty words Prime wanted to dress up his reluctant compliance with. They had as little reason to trust him as he had them. This was just a matter of leverage now.

"Yes. I am willing to accept any condition, any safeguard you wish to use to ensure my compliance. You have my word I would not attempt to escape unless you're proven to be lying."

Skyfire did not give that oath lightly. He never had, and it was one of the few ideals he'd managed to hold onto despite the Great War. He'd learned how to fight, installed weaponry into his frame, and seen more mecha die than he could comprehend, but, once given, he never broke his word. The Autobots might not believe him, but he wouldn't. Particularly not with Starscream on the line.

The Prime accepted his oath with a crisp nod and said, "I must discuss the logistics of this with the rest of the Officers to determine what will be done. You'll be called back once an agreement has been reached. For now, I must ask you to follow Ironhide back to the brig."

It wasn't a promise—not yet, anyway—but it was far more than he'd dared hoped for. When Ironhide entered, he allowed the mech to refasten the stasis cuffs and lead him out of the room. Ironhide sent him suspicious glances as they walked, but Skyfire ignored him. For once, his processer was blissfully calm. It was done.

Now all he could do was wait.

* * *

><p>…<p>

"_This _is an EMP pulsar."

Ratchet thrust a deceptively innocent looking device in front of Skyfire's optics. Skyfire leaned back slightly on the medical berth as Ratchet's arm came a bit too close for comfort, but he obligingly studied the small bit of machinery. Ratchet kept the pulsar against his face for another few moments before bringing it back to his chest.

"It's keyed into the signal of every Autobot on base," Ratchet said. "You do _anything _we don't like while you're out there, we activate it and you turn into a helpless scrapheap on the ground. No motor control, and the process is _not _pleasant for you." He paused for a moment, giving the pulsar a thoughtful glance. "That said, if any Autobot decides to _abuse _that safeguard, they'll have to answer to me."

Ratchet buzzed away as quickly as he'd come, moving towards another table holding familiar tools and muttering darkly under his breath. He briefly paused in his preparations to swing sharply back in Skyfire's direction.

"And don't even _think_ about trying tamper with it," he warned, brandishing a wrench at him threateningly. "The access responds only to my programming, and I'll be checking it periodically."

Skyfire nodded pacifyingly at the medic, and Ratchet turned back to his tools, leaving Skyfire alone on the medical berth. He stayed meekly where Ratchet had left him; he knew from experience to stay out of the way of another medic.

Negotiations with Prime had, honestly, gone better than he'd expected. He'd been prepared for anything when he'd been called back into Prime's office, but, to his immense surprise, the Prime had agreed to his terms. With some stipulations, of course.

The EMP pulsar—a _very _aggravating device that could disable most non-critical systems in a nanoklik—wasn't the only security measure he'd agreed to, though it was the most invasive. He would, obviously, be monitored by at least one of the higher ranked Autobots at all times, though only the Aerialbots, as the only available flyers, would be physically guarding him. His 'com systems were still locked tightly down, but they'd added a small tangle of code that would allow him to receive specifically encoded Autobot transmissions so they could communicate with him in alt mode. It was uncomfortable, but it meant he got the chance to search for his bonded. That was all that truly mattered.

Not everyone had been happy with the arrangement. The Security Director, Red Alert, had nearly blown a fuse at the idea, but they'd all eventually come to a consensus. The info Skyfire held was just too valuable to refuse. Codes, strategies, weapons info, even personal information or weaknesses from medical examinations could be open to them. He may not be high rank, but he was a medic and that was almost as good. At this stage, information could give them a substantial advantage in the war.

Ratchet finally seemed to finish setting up his workstation. He fiddled with the different tools for a moment longer, rearranging the order for no discernible reason, before pushing the cart closer to Skyfire's berth.

Before starting, he asked, "Medical stasis or motor override? You're choice—same to me either way."

Skyfire immediately said, "I would prefer to be conscious." He didn't trust Ratchet _that _much.

He tensed as Ratchet plugged into his medical port, and then felt his frame slacken as Ratchet uploaded the code to deactivate his motor controls from the neck down. Skyfire had to squash a brief burst of panic at the sudden loss of function. He slowly managed to relax as he grew used to the strange lack of sensation. He could hear the slide and clatter of metal as Ratchet started to work, though he couldn't feel anything as Ratchet started removing plating.

One section of his processer stayed focused on monitoring the sound of Ratchet working, but the remainder of his thoughts was free to drift. There was only one thought he could focus on.

He was really going through with this.

It felt like a betrayal. Truthfully, it _was _a betrayal. If everything went as Skyfire hoped and he found Starscream, then he would become an informant for the Autobots. A traitor. The word itself brought a grimace of disgust to his face, but once he got past that instinctual response, he felt surprisingly little over the idea of leaving the Decepticons.

He'd never been a dedicated Decepticon like other recruits—hadn't joined out of passion or loyalty but because it had been the only tolerable option he'd had left. He'd managed to become a good soldier, had pledged his loyalty to the Cause, even managed to find some measure of happiness amidst the war, and yet… The memories of his time as a medic and soldier paled in comparison to the time he'd spent as a scientist with Starscream beside him.

Still, even if life as a soldier had fit him poorly, he had once respected what the Decepticons stood for. Class equality, fair energon distribution, a purging of corruption… they'd been noble goals. But that had been a long time ago, before the Great War had destroyed Cybertron and the old class system. They'd stopped fighting for the Cause long ago, and the war had stolen whatever honorable intentions had once existed.

He'd lost his respect for Megatron as a leader the moment he'd sent Thundercracker to the med-bay. Even before that, he'd often found himself questioning their Leader's decisions: his refusal to compromise or negotiate, his lack of appreciation for mundane necessities such as scientists or engineers, his tendency towards excessive force and destruction… Still, he couldn't dismiss the rest of the faction so easily. There were good mecha still with the 'Cons. He'd worked beside them for vorns. Doing this meant he would have to betray mecha he—not _liked _exactly, but respected and knew didn't deserve to be deactivated. Mecha who'd joined the 'Cons for their own reasons—good or bad—and survived the war as best they could.

One problem stood out above all others: Skywarp and Thundercracker. Betraying the Decepticons meant betraying them as well, and that was a far more difficult thing to accept. He was already sick of having to deal with this on his own, surrounding by people he couldn't trust, but he couldn't let the Autobots figure out just who his bondmate was. If they knew they were searching for the Command Trine's missing trinemate, then it would mean handing them a very powerful piece of leverage. Skyfire couldn't make that decision for the Seekers. Not when it would mean giving out such sensitive, personal information without their knowledge or consent.

Regardless, if they did manage to find and awaken Starscream, his trinemates would find out as soon as the bond opened. They could make their decision then, without having to worry about Autobot interference. This way, at least, they wouldn't have to worry about deciding between their loyalty to the Cause and their bondmate. Even if they ended up hating him for taking that decision out of their control.

He said he'd sacrifice anything to have Starscream back with him again, and he'd meant it. His freedom, his honor, even his relationship with Skywarp and Thundercracker should it come to that.

He hadn't realized how lost in thought he'd become until Ratchet jacked into his medical port again to remove the motor blocks. He tensed at the unexpected invasion, but Ratchet was done and disconnected almost before Skyfire registered what had happened. Ratchet thumped him once on his back, making Skyfire jump at the sudden, unexpectedly intense sensation. His sensor net would take a few kliks to recalibrate before returning to normal.

"We're done here. I've already 'commed Ironhide to come back in," Ratchet said.

Ratchet had almost physically chased Ironhide out of the med-bay after he'd brought Skyfire in, yelling something about how he could take care of himself and refused to work with the other grounder hovering over him. Ironhide had begrudgingly spent the procedure waiting outside the med-bay doors. Skyfire sat up, feeling the slight, aching pain where Ratchet had shifted circuitry to add the new device. It would fade as his systems adjusted, but for now it was a stark reminder of where he stood. Swinging his legs over the side of the berth, he stood up to meet Ironhide as the med-bay door slid open.

…

By the time they arrived in the hanger, most of the preparations had already been completed. His guards-to-be were milling around the center of the room, speaking quietly among themselves. None of the Command Staff were there, but he recognized a couple heavy-hitters among the grounders. All five of the Aerialbots were there as well, huddled together in a cluster of wings along the side of the Ark and sending him brief, searching glances when they thought no one was looking.

He didn't have to wait long before a flight plan was beamed to him from an unfamiliar origin code. He opened it to find the flight laid out in almost ridiculous detail. Skyfire committed the datafile to memory anyway, determined to follow every minute adjustment and mechanoinch of instruction. He wouldn't be giving the Autobots any reason to change their minds.

An electrical current seemed to pass through the room as everyone suddenly twitched then started moving with purpose. Time to leave, then. Soon enough, one of the grounders came marching over and roughly grabbed his arm, steering him across the hanger.

"Don't do anything stupid," the mech warned under his breath. "You'll be monitored every astrosecond, and if you hurt one of the Jets when you're out there, you'll find the Ark your own personal Pit once we drag you back."

He didn't wait for an answer before transforming and taking his place in the formation, leaving Skyfire among the gestalt. A short command—more a countdown, really—was beamed to him shortly before the bay door began to open, and they began to move.

For the first time in far too long, he stepped outside. No more walls penning him in or chains restricting his movement. He could actually see the sky above him again, and he didn't take his optics off of it until he received the orders to take off. As he transformed, a ball of stress he hadn't even noticed unwound from his chest. He'd missed flying—more than he'd realized. As a Shuttle, he didn't have the same fierce need that Seekers did to take to the skies, but he was still a flight frame; he wasn't designed to be trapped in a small area for extended amounts of time, even if he had learned to tolerate it.

He maintained the straight flight plan even as the unfamiliar shapes of other flyers slotted into formation around him: the Aerialbots. He hadn't seen them in alt-mode before, and the frames were strangely, subtly different from a normal Cybertronian frame. As with the Stunticons, the root-mode had been created to fit the alt-mode instead of the other way around, and it left the gestalt with just enough minor structural and mechanical differences for him to notice. The alterations weren't obvious, but Skyfire knew every circuit and strut of a normal Seeker frame.

More than that, the Aerialbots flew like younglings. They lacked the military precision and self-control he was used to. They moved remarkable in sync with each other—undoubtedly a result of the gestalt link—but they didn't have the tight, controlled poise of a militarily trained mech. He could already see some of them starting to fidget and twitch from having to hold the same formation, and the slight prickle of low-encryption transmissions passed around him.

Several times, one of the Aerialbots—usually Fireflight—drifted slightly closer than necessary during the flight. He half-expected the young flyer would have sent him a message if it had been possible, but his locked-down 'com system thankfully prevented Fireflight from starting a conversation. Their obvious curiosity was still nearly suffocating. Eventually, their attention started to drift away, and their movements took on a more playful air, as if they were teasing one another or playing games to pass the time. The slow speed they maintained to allow the grounders to keep up made the younglings antsy, engines itching to speed up into a faster, more comfortable setting.

The grounders peeled away soon enough, though they remained below until they passed any easy access points to reach the Nemesis or known Decepticon targets. He barely noticed their absence except to relish the chance to move faster without the others' less powerful engines slowing them down.

As they flew, low-priority thoughts continued to buzz in the back of his processer—analyzing, creating and discarding vague plans, debating ideas, but the time for planning had ended. He'd already committed to his decision. Now he could only follow it through to the end and see which path the future would take.

Behind it all, one thought—one memory—thrummed endlessly.

_Starscream._

* * *

><p>…<p>

Their surroundings changed slowly around them as they flew. Even at the height they flew at, the temperature gradually inched downward. The ocean shimmered below them, and eventually the water grew cold enough that small blocks of ice began to appear.

The arranged flight plan ended once they reached the edge of the large, frozen landmass that marked the northernmost end of the planet. The Aerialbots adjusted their flight patterns as soon as they passed the edge, adjusting their positions so that they were following Skyfire's lead instead. Now that they were far away from any sign of civilization or access to the Decepticons, there was little reason for them to worry about him trying something destructive. Skyfire brought them farther towards the center of the landmass for several more breems. Skyfire barely notices the land beneath them; his processer was focused on the invisible coordinates crossing the planet.

Angling their flight towards the place he and Starscream had once touched down to start their exploration, Skyfire guided them into a slow landing—carefully, at first, then faster when none of them protested the change in direction. He transformed and touched down, and metal slid and whispered behind him as the Autobots follow. Skyfire looked out over the ice, taking in the region he hadn't seen in eons.

The Arctic had changed over the millennia. Time had shifted the ice and altered the landmass until it bore little resemblance to the maps his navigational systems had developed megavorns ago. Even the atmospheric composition had shifted over the millennia, but Skyfire could still see traces of the planet from his memory files. The ice was still the same. It crunched under his weight just as he remembered, and the wind still howled against his plating, buffeting them with an unending haze of drifting snow. Dark clouds swirled far off in the distance.

His navigational systems had been broken during that storm, but he still remembered the path that would take him to the last place he'd ever seen Starscream.

He didn't fly. Not this time. Instead, he walked, letting the memories come. They'd started off close to this sector, drawn by a particularly intricate pattern of ice. They'd both stayed together for a while, wandering north along several ridges and fissures in the ground that no longer even existed. Eventually, Skyfire passed the point where Starscream had started drifting away to study a small growth of organic matter that had caught his optic. Skyfire finally stopped walking in a nondescript slab of ice, letting the wind shift the snow around his feet.

This was it. The landscape was different, the ridges and shape of the terrain gone, but these were still the coordinates where he'd been standing when the storm hit. This time, his external sensors were fully activated. He wouldn't be caught off guard again.

The ground behind him crunched as one of the younglings approached. Skyfire didn't bother turning around to see who he was addressing before starting to speak.

"This is where we'll start looking. He could have crashed anywhere within a few cycles' flight from here, and there's no guarantee the planet's tectonic movement hasn't shifted his frame further away."

Skyfire glanced backwards to find the gestalt leader, Silverbolt, standing a step behind him. He looked uncertain in his new position. His wings were angled slightly downward and his planting clamped down just a bit too tightly. Undoubtedly he had little experience being in charge of a prisoner.

Regardless of his discomfort, Silverbolt still did his best to establish his control over the situation. "We'll let you search alone, but stay within a hic of me, ok? I don't want to have to use the EMP pulser, but I will if it looks like you're trying to escape." Silverbolt practically cringed at the mention of the pulser, though he hid it remarkably well for his age.

Skyfire nodded his agreement, and some of the tension left the Aerialbot. A hic wasn't too unreasonable a distance, and there was no point in arguing for a larger area. It would be best if they searched on foot anyway; if Starscream's frame was buried deep enough, then it was possible the long-range, weaker scans of their alt-modes would miss him. The abnormal magnetic field in this part of the planet wouldn't help matters either.

He could see the Aerialbots huddling up again nearby, communicating through their gestalt bond and gesturing at their surroundings in a way that could only mean they were mapping out a search pattern. Skyfire left them to it. Instead, he started walking away, heading towards the areas where he'd last felt Starscream's spark before it had disappeared.

The Arctic was a big place.

* * *

><p>…<p>

They didn't find Starscream the first orn. Or the second. Soon enough, an entire decaorn had passed without result. Eventually, the Aerialbots started to come and go—taking shifts, he supposed. Skyfire ignored them and kept looking. He recharged in short spurts against larger hills of ice when he couldn't put it off anymore and drank energon whenever his guards brought him a cube. Eventually, he grew accustomed to the cold and the feel of snow crunching under his weight.

His spark ached. He didn't know whether it was a remnant of the stress he'd put the bond through earlier or a sign of how close Starscream's frame was, but his spark continued to pulse with pain and cold. As the orns passed, he kept checking the bond to see if it had healed enough for him to push into it for a sign of where his frame might be, but, though the painful damage had decreased enough for him to touch the bond again, it hadn't healed enough for him to risk trying to force past the block again.

Engines roared overhead, making Skyfire pause and glance upward. He recognizes Silverbolt as the youngling grew closer until he transformed and landed in front of him.

"Skyfire?" he said, sounding every inch his true age. "We found something."

All at once, Skyfire's processer fell silent. All his thoughts and doubts and plans shuddered to a stop, leaving Skyfire empty in their absence.

"Lead me there," he said. The command stuck in his vocalizer, coming out more like a plea than the demand he'd intended.

Silverbolt immediately turned and took off, and Skyfire followed an astrosecond behind. They didn't have to fly far. Silverbolt didn't even bother taking them to a higher, safer altitude for the short stretch before they were angling back down to the ground again, where two brighter blurs of color were waiting.

Fireflight and Skydive were already standing in the middle of a deep basin with snow heaped around its edges, both of them digging deeper. Every so often, a flame would shoot up as one of them activated their thrusters against the ice, sending steam billowing up around them. They both looked up at the sound of his approach. Fireflight immediately activated his thrusters again to help him clamber out of the deep hole, and his brother followed soon after. They scrambled over to stand with the rest of their gestalt, but Skyfire stopped paying attention to them as soon as they left his field of vision.

Standing on the edge of the melted ice, he sent his own scans into the hole. They came back positive. Barely a few mechameters down (so close) lay something far denser than the surrounding ice. Denser, even, then the vast majority of materials on the planet and anything found in this region of the planet.

He jumped down, activating his thrusters briefly to slow his descent. Landing with a soft thud, Skyfire immediately crouched down and laid a hand on the ground. The ice was packed densely this far below the surface. He could still break through it by hand with little trouble, but it would be slow and start painfully wearing away at the plating of his hands before too long. Evaporating the ice would be far easier, at least at this point, so he carefully activated his thrusters and, steadying himself against the side with one hand, aimed the flame at the center. Vapor curled around him, reaching towards the sky, and melting water dripped down the sides to freeze in abstract patterns, adding to the designs from where the younglings had melted the ice earlier. Skyfire barely noticed the other flyers disappearing from his sensors as they backed away, giving him some privacy. He kept could only focus on the ice gradually melting under his feet and the steadily disappearing distance between him and what was almost certainly his bondmate's frame.

Once his sensors pinged that he was getting close, he stopped using the heat from his thrusters altogether and began only moving the ice with his hands. Their plating may have been modified to withstand the vacuum between planets, but it hadn't been meant for the slow penetration of water molecules into systems and circuitry or for such an extended internal change in temperature. Melting the ice off of Starscream would be the quickest way to free him, but there was no way to tell what kind of damage a sudden, dramatic increase in temperature would have on his frozen internals.

His hand trembled as he brushed the last layer of snow away. Metal gleamed underneath—a bright white edged with red. Not grey. That was the only thought Skyfire could hold onto. The metal hadn't faded into the grey of deactivation, which meant the color nanites were still functioning. Those nanites—as with all the others that maintained a Cybertronian frame—were sustained by spark-energy and faded almost immediately upon deactivation. And Starscream's hadn't.

He dug deeper, cracking and pushing aside the ice surrounding the rest of the broad plate. His hand eventually found the edge of the armor, and his fingers curled easily onto the opposite side of the thin metal. A wing, then. He followed the edge of the limb, breaking large chunks of ice off as he felt for where his wings connected to the rest of his frame.

He only paused at the feel of a rough, unnatural bend in the surface. The upper edge of Starscream's wing stuck out disturbingly from his frame, and the torn edges had healed poorly. Starscream must have landed upon it and broken the edge, and nanites had healed it without being set. Even though he knew Starscream couldn't possibly feel any pain, Skyfire worked carefully around the damage.

Starscream's frame slowly started to come into view. He was curled in on itself, as if he was trying to protect his spark. His wings looked to have suffered the worst of the damage from impact, though most of his right side was covered in unhealed dents. It was—better than he'd expected. Harder too. Because he still looked like Starscream, and he couldn't stop hearing the quiet voice that insisted he was digging up his bondmate's corpse.

He did stop again when he uncovered Starscream's face, forcing back a shudder. Starscream's color was still there—dull, chipped, but there—but his features were frozen in a pained grimace and his armor was cold and motionless to the touch. No energon or electrical signals pulsed under his armor, and his plating didn't thrum with warmth.

He'd already dug out a small hollow around Starscream's back and head, so it was the work of only a few kliks to finish removing the ice covering the rest of the Seeker's torso. His fingers were starting to sting as the ice slowly scoured a layer of metal and nanites of, but he barely even noticed the damage. This was it. He had Starscream within reach; now all that remained was to find out whether he had his bondmate back or an empty frame to bury.

He placed one hand against Starscream's chest, directly above his spark. It was cold. Frozen, along with the rest of his frame, and empty of sensation. If Starscream's spark was still there, it wasn't strong enough to be felt through the thick layers of armor protecting it. Glancing up to make sure the Aerialbots were still out of sight, Skyfire carefully reached lower, to the almost invisible seams crossing the center of his plating.

As exploratory partners, Starscream's frame had long been programmed to react automatically to Skyfire's energy and spark signature. He could only hope Starscream's frame was still able to recognize that command. As the plating shuddered under his hands, Skyfire knew it was. Shards of ice flaked off Starscream's chest with soft cracks as the panels jerked erratically into motion. Skyfire had to manually fold some of the circuitry away when broken gears refused to function.

The inside of Starscream's chest was a mess of poorly healed scars from self-repair and the remains of burst, frozen circuits where sections of his systems had been unable to react in time to protect the delicate mechanisms from the temperature change. It would take a medic to fix, especially after all these vorns, but none of the damage he could see would have been fatal in itself.

His hand shook, but he laid one finger against the fragile metal casing enclosing his spark

This time, he could feel the heat of a spark.

Skyfire's spark twisted in his chest as the bond reacted, and he grunted as the sudden, intense need to feel Starscream's spark again tore through the bond. The small tingle of spark energy wasn't nearly enough after so long, but it was so, so much more than he'd ever expected to have again. Motor control almost gave out on him, and he very nearly collapsed alongside Starscream. He didn't have to think of his bonded as an empty frame anymore. He still had a spark; he was still Starscream.

He must have made some sort of sound, but he barely registered the half-broken keen.

Ratchet had been telling the truth.

Starscream was alive.

He reverently folded Starscream's chest back together, protecting and hiding Starscream's spark chamber behind layers of metal again. His spark twinged again as the barrier rose between them. Soon—soon—it wouldn't matter anymore. If Ratchet was right, then all they needed to do was bring Starscream out of stasis, and the bond would reassert itself. He would finally be whole for the first time in millennia.

It seemed like no time at all before Starscream's lower body was free from the ice. Skyfire immediately picked Starscream up, cradling his frozen frame against his chest, and activated his thrusters, bringing them both out of the hole. Frozen water still clung to Starscream's armor. With the heat of Skyfire's systems so close, the ice slowly started to melt, dripping from Starscream's armor and between plating.

"Let's go."

~.*.~


	17. A Slow Recovery

Tangled Destiny

Chapter Seventeen: A Slow Recovery

* * *

><p>The Aerialbots were watching him.<p>

Although they flew in root mode this time, the wind howled too loudly around them for any questions or conversation. So the younglings just stared and shifted around him for a better look at Starscream, and the transmissions flew even more densely between them than they had on the trip over. The distance took longer to cover with only the thrusters of their root mode, but he preferred being able to carry Starscream over shutting him away in his cargo bay. They followed the same flightplan as before, though this time none of the Autobots seemed worried he might try something.

As time passed, Starscream's frame slowly started to warm, and melted water continued to trickle from between his plating. Some of it was immediately blown away by the strong wind, but the rest dripped steadily onto Skyfire's armor. Warmth was slowly leeched from his arms by Starscream's half-frozen plating, forcing his internal regulator to adjust. Eventually, the sea below them was replaced by land again, and small human settlements began dotting the countryside. Eventually, Silverbolt drifted closer and motioned for him to slow down a bit so they could talk.

"I radioed ahead. Ratchet's waiting for us," Silverbolt shouted. It was hard to hear him over the roaring of the wind, but his voice carried well enough for Skyfire to understand him. "You're to obey his instructions once we arrive."

Skyfire nodded, and they sped up to normal speed again. Not far from the Ark, a small patrol of grounders fell into formation below them. In root mode, their speed was almost the same, though they still had to slow down slightly to match the other Autobots. The Ark came into sight soon enough, and even more Autobots were milling around the outside of the half-buried ship. Many of them stopped to stare as they drew closer. Skyfire's spark sank at the sight of them. He shifted his arms, trying to hide Starscream's frame from the sight of so many Autobots.

Ratchet was a bright spot of red and white outside the main door of the Ark. He straightened and started moving purposefully forward as soon as they came into sight, and by the time their small group touched down he was almost directly beside them. He paid little attention to the rest of the group, his gaze instead focused on the small figure in Skyfire's arms. Skyfire recognized the look of a medic focusing on his patient, already scanning for any damage. Ratchet's optics widened at the sight of Starscream's wings hanging below Skyfire's arms.

"A Seeker?" he murmured, sounding quite surprised. "Well, slag me. Been a long, long time since I've worked on one of those. I assume you have his schematics?" He barely waited for Skyfire's nod before continuing. "Good. I'll connect for the file transfer soon as we're inside. I want to start looking at him soon as possible; no telling what kind of damage we're dealing with and how his recovery is affecting it."

Nodding resolutely, he turned and, gesturing for Skyfire to walk with him, started moving towards the main entrance to the ship. Ratchet stayed within arm's reach as they walked, muttering inaudibly to himself and studying Starscream's prone form. Halfway there, the medic suddenly grimaced.

"Ah, _slaggit, _we're gonna have to deal with a Seeker with a broken trine bond now too."

Skyfire looked up in surprise. Ratchet thought his trinemates were… Well, that would certainly make things simpler. So long as he didn't do anything to contradict the medic's assumption, he wouldn't have to worry about hiding his Trinemates' rank. It wasn't even an unreasonable assumption. Seekers had deactivated just as quickly as any other frametype, and there were far too few Trines left. Ratchet had no way of knowing just how incredible talented Starscream's Trine had been, even before the war, with Skywarp and Thundercracker's Sigma abilities and Starscream's unparalleled speed and processer.

So he let the comment pass. He barely remembered the rest of the walk to the med-bay. The hallways ran together in a uniform blur of orange, and he barely noticed the Autobots that stared as they passed by. It seemed like they reached the familiar door of the med-bay in no time at all. Ratchet gestured him towards one of the medical berths on the far side of the room and disappeared into what looked like a storage area.

Skyfire carefully laid Starscream down on the berth, trying to jostle the Seeker as little as possible. He sat down beside Starscream's helm, as close as he could get without being in the way for the repairs. Soon enough, Ratchet returned with a cluster of machines behind him, some of which he'd never seen before. The medic frowned at him when he saw how close Skyfire had sat, but he just huffed and started arranging the medical tools around them.

"How's the bond?" he asked

Skyfire shook his head. "Still silent." Nothing had changed since they'd found Starscream; the wall still blocked off the bond, and he didn't dare try to force it in case it hurt Starscream as well. Not yet, anyway.

Ratchet cursed under his breath and reached out behind him, to the carefully arranged pile of machinery. Skyfire stopped him as Ratchet grabbed one of the machines he didn't recognize.

"What's that?"

Ratchet spared him a short glance. "Spark monitor," he explained. "It'll help get a basic reading on the energy he's giving off, figure out what's going on and if we do anything to upset the balance. Nothing invasive, just a few basic, surface scans."

With that, Ratchet continued, and Skyfire let him. He'd heard of spark monitors before, though he'd never actually seen them. On a military outpost, any strictly monitoring equipment was more a luxury than anything. In Starscream's unique case, it would be one of the most useful medical tools they could use. The smalls screen took up a weak yet steady rhythm as it was attached, and Ratchet made a pleased sound at the readouts.

"It doesn't look like his recovery put his spark in any immediate danger. His spark's barely strong enough to sustain itself, but there aren't any fluctuations to worry about," Ratchet said. He put the machine aside, where it continued to mark the pulses of Starscream's spark. Ratchet reached behind himself for something else and said, "I'm gonna have to plug in to check his coding, make sure nothing important was slagged up from the extended stasis"

Skyfire immediately stiffened, shifting so that he was better shielding Starscream's helm. "No. I'll do it," he said. He didn't want Ratchet poking around in Starscream's processer.

Ratchet gave him a skeptical look. "Skyfire, I don't think-"

"As his bondmate, I have the right to refuse on his behalf," Skyfire interrupted, hoping Ratchet still obeyed Iacon's old medical decrees. Mecha had a right to refuse treatment, and bondmates or sparkmates also had a say in that decision.

Ratchet grimaced, but he stopped fiddling with the tools behind him. "Tell me you at least know what you're doing," Ratchet half-ordered, but he sounded more resigned than anything; that was when Skyfire knew he'd won.

"Coding has always been one of my specialties. I won't damage him."

He'd developed his own medical programs long ago, and compared to that just checking processer coding for errors wasn't even a challenge. His only experience with living systems might have been using those medical programs, but he did at least know what healthy, undamaged code looked like. Skyfire had to shift Starscream's arm slightly to reach one of his medical access ports, and the old hinge was stiff from age and disuse. He eventually managed to coax it open and carefully plugged himself in.

The link connected with a jolt, and Skyfire nearly flinched away from the sensation. Starscream's processer felt… bare. Empty. His processer was silent and still, without even background programs running to maintain his frame. It was unnerving, almost as if the Seeker wasn't truly alive at all. no matter what Skyfire knew to the contrary. He still reached out to put a hand on Starscream's chest, where the metal above his sparkchamber had warmed slightly. With that reassurance, Skyfire shifted slowly through Starscream's processer, carefully brushing past firewalls and stray strands of code as he checked for any problems. It took a few moments for him to reach the deep coding where an error would be truly dangerous, but he was relieved by what he found. The codes might be cold and unmoving, but they didn't look broken.

Starscream's processer, at least, had weathered the eons far better than his frame had. The thick, resilient plating protecting his mind was second only to the armor covering his spark, and it seemed to have protected his core coding from the elements. Skyfire continued scanning every major code for damage, just in case.

As he was finishing, a muffled curse drew his attention back down to where Ratchet was working. The medic had reached the densest region of a Seeker's frame, where wiring and circuitry were thickly layered. Now, the area was more a snarl of metal and wire instead of the densely ordered systems it should have been. Even without the added mess, the area was one of the hardest places to repair for a Seeker—not because the patches were particularly difficult, but because it was near impossible to work on the deeper systems without either a third limb or another mech to help.

Before he could even think about it, Skyfire was reaching down and holding the top layers of metal away from the underlying systems that needed repairs. Ratchet glanced up at him in surprise, fingers freezing where they were, and Skyfire met his optics with a determination of his own.

"I _am _a trained medic," Skyfire reminded him wryly. "And I have quite a bit of experience with Seekers."

Ratchet blinked but didn't back down. "Then I'm sure you know why letting sparkmates, let alone bonded mecha, work on each other is a slagging terrible idea."

Skyfire stared at him calmly, letting his self-control speak for himself. He knew his limits, but this wasn't one of them. Helping fix him wasn't any worse than standing idly by and staring at the damage, and there was no way he was leaving Starscream alone with the Autobot.

Ratchet eventually caved. "Slaggit, _fine,_" he grumbled. "But you obey _my _orders, and if I order you to stop and get out of the way, then you slagging well better do it."

With that, Ratchet reached down and started repairing the wiring he could and replacing the ones he could not. For the first time in megavorns, Skyfire took on the role of an assistant. He adjusted wiring and exchanged tools, doing what he could to make Ratchet's job easier. They fell into a simple rhythm of repairing and soon moved past the more complex sections of his frame. Eventually, Ratchet handed him a basic laser scalpel to remove the completely destroyed wires with and he was able to work slightly more independently.

As the cycles passed, Skyfire paid only half a mind on the tedious work of repairing broken lines. The rest of it was focused on his spark. Starscream was here, his spark was still pulsing, but the bond remained terribly, achingly empty. Skyfire kept up a steady, constant pressure against the block at the end of the bond. It hurt, but it was a slow, throbbing pain, like the ache of a deep dent. He didn't try to force it again, not when he didn't know if it would damage Starscream's side of the bond as well, and that kept most the crippling pain from before at bay.

Eventually, after most of the major energon lines had been reconnected and energon started flowing through some of Starscream's frame again, Skyfire felt it. A faint flicker against the edges of the bond, barely stronger than the trace of energy he'd felt pushing against the bond the previous orn. This time, though, it didn't immediately fade. Skyfire took his hands out of Starscream's frame to focus on the feeling, trying to coax it stronger. He wrapped himself around the faint hint of spark energy, passing as much strength into it as he could. The spark energy wavered slightly stronger in response and wove itself deeper into the bond. As the wall between them continued to weaken, Skyfire started to feel traces of Starscream's personality infusing the spark energy. For a moment, Skyfire just basked in the feel of pure Starscream, re-familiarizing himself with the unique eddies and characteristics of a spark he'd once known as well as his own.

The new energy threw the degeneration of the bond itself into stark contrast, and he winced at the still raw damage and scars. The millenia of disuse had . He reached out and brushed against one of the tears, wincing at the sharp throb of pain it earned him. It would heal eventually-already, the raw, jagged edges were starting to smooth out as the spark energy washed across them-but it would be a long time before the bond was fully recovered.

Skyfire onlined his optics, unable to remember offlining them, to find Ratchet watching him. "You can feel him now?" the medic asked

"_Yes,_" Skyfire whispered. The word came out more emotional than he'd have liked, filled with wonder and awe and above all _hope, _but for once he couldn't regret showing such vulnerability. "It's still faint, but it's _him._"

"Good," Ratchet grunted. "Means we're doing something right, at least. Now that we've got energon moving through most of the important bits, it should keep strengthening. Let me know immediately if it starts weakening at _all._"

Skyfire nodded absentmindedly, his focus already starting to return to Starscream and the bond once again. Eventually, he was able to concentrate enough to start working on Starscream's internals again. And slowly—so slowly he could barely feel it—Starscream's spark continued to grow stronger.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Ratchet eventually groaned and started closing up Starscream's chest again.

"Enough. The rest of the damage will hold until tomorrow. " He sighed. "Physically, he should be able to online again. None of the remaining damage is severe enough to keep him in stasis anymore. It's his spark we have to worry about, and there's nothing we can do to make that recover quicker."

Skyfire reluctantly allowed Ratchet to take his laser scalpel back and start packing up the equipment. They'd only been working a few cycles, but Starscream was already looking better; his plating had warmed and color brightened as energon started moving through repaired lines. Skyfire jumped at the clatter of moving metal sounded behind him and turned to see Ironhide pushing away from where he'd been leaning against the wall and walking towards them. He hadn't even noticed the mech coming in, but it looked like he'd been there for a while.

"C'mon," Ironhide grunted, though the words were less harsh than normal. "Med-bay's closing. You can come back in the morning, but you still need to spend the night cycles in the brig."

Skyfire froze. They were making him go back to the brig? His automatic response was to refuse, but he quickly quelled that reaction. If he wanted to accomplish anything, he needed to pick his battles wisely. Starting an argument over spending another night in the brig wasn't wise, no matter what his spark seemed to think. Starscream remained in deep stasis, and it was unlikely he would awaken before Skyfire could return. Still…

"There's no other option?" he tried.

Ironhide had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable. "Not fer this. Red's orders. 'S a security risk, an' he's already made a lotta exceptions fer ya. No sense tryin' ta push him farther."

Skyfire brushed a hand over Starscream's still chest. He could barely feel the prickle of Starscream's spark through the layers of metal, no matter how much stronger it had grown since Skyfire felt the first faint pulses of his spark through the bond.

"Will he at least be safe? If anything happens while the med-bay's closed?"

Ironhide nodded. "Ratchet'll still be moniterin' him. He'll know if anythin's wrong an' be back here in half a klik."

That was surprisingly reassuring; Ratchet was an exceptionally skilled medic, and he wouldn't let anything befall a patient under his care. That at least was something the rumors seemed to have gotten right. He stood up and, with one last squeeze of Starscream's plating, stepped away from Starscream's berth.

At least they didn't put the stasis cuffs on him again. Then again, having his bonded offline in the med-bay was a far better deterrent than the metal would have been. Ironhide put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a light push to get started, and Skyfire let the momentum carry him into a slow walk. Ironhide remained a solid presence behind him, just close enough to keep him moving. The door closed behind them, cutting Starscream off from sight. Skyfire shuddered but kept walking. He knew the route back to the brig by memory by then, and he found himself keeping track of the exact distance separating him from Starscream.

Halfway there, his spark started aching again. The first spark of pain caught him by surprise, and his hand flew to his chest. Focusing on the bond, he could feel that something seemed off. Starscream's presence in the bond felt almost weaker again, and its hold in the bond didn't seem as sturdy. Ironhide was still behind him, silently pushing him onward, and with every step he could feel the connection between them fading incrementally.

This wasn't right. Unless they were on opposite sides of an entire solar system, distance shouldn't affect the strength of a spark bond. They were still in the same ship, only a few corridors away, but Skyfire could already feel Starscream's presence in the bond starting to fade with the distance. Skyfire had to reassure himself that Starscream's spark wasn't actually weakening again, no matter what it felt like. Surely Ratchet would notice immediately if that happened and call them back.

Still, Skyfire wanted nothing more than to turn around and go back to where the bond didn't feel so weak or Starscream's spark so far away, but he didn't have that option. He could only grasp onto the faint tendrils of Starscream's spark energy and make that be enough. So long as he could still sense Starscream's spark, he'd be alright. Starscream was still there, still online, no matter how much it felt like his presence was slipping away from the bond. The thought kept him moving, at least.

They were almost there when Skyfire suddenly stopped mid-stride.

"I can't feel him," Skyfire whispered, half in shock.

The weak, steady pulse of Starscream's spark in the bond was gone.

Ironhide didn't hear him. The Autobot cursed and stumbled to a stop before he could run into him, not that Skyfire even noticed the mech's movements. He didn't pay any attention to the other mech's presence until Ironhide grabbed ahold of his shoulder, pulling him another step forward. The movement jostled Skyfire out of his stunned immobility.

Only one thought broke through the growing panic. He needed to get back to Starscream. Immediately.

Skyfire jerked away from Ironhide's hand and turned back the way they'd come. Surprise lent him a moment's head start, and he managed to take a few running steps before he heard Ironhide take off in pursuit.

Skyfire didn't get far before something large and heavy bowled into him from behind, sending them both tumbling to the ground. He managed to twist as he fell and gain some measure of leverage, but with Ironhide half on top of him he didn't get far. Ironhide had experience in hand to hand combat. Skyfire had never even tried to grapple with someone his own size. Desperation allowed him to almost slip free, but then Ironhide got a hand around his neck, slamming his face into the ground. Skyfire collapsed, stunned, and Ironhide took advantage of the moment to twist one of Skyfire's arm behind his back and adjust his weight to hold the Shuttle against the ground. By the time Skyfire recovered, he was thoroughly pinned.

His instincts shouted at him to stop fighting. He was trapped, had no leverage to break free, and Ironhide's fingers were heavy against the vulnerable plating of his neck. Self-preservation demanded he yield. But his spark was still screaming at him to get back to his bonded. That Starscream was in danger or damaged, and the bond was far too silent again.

His spark won. He ignored Ironhide's obvious advantage and kept struggling, desperate to free himself. Ironhide pushed harder on his arm, pulling the joint up another few degrees until the joint started to creak and pain shot up his arm from the pressure. Skyfire didn't stop; he would have let the Autobot tear the arm clear off if it meant he could get free. Ironhide stopped applying pressure before any serious damage was done, but he growled angrily as Skyfire still didn't yield.

"Don't make me use the pulser on ya, because I will if you don't slagging-" His voice cut off with a curse, and he shifted his weight to free one arm.

"_Kinda busy _right now_,_" Ironhide grunted, having just opened up a 'com channel. He fell silent for a moment as he listened to whomever was on the other end, and the only sounds in the corridor were the loud clangs of metal on metal as Skyfire tried fruitlessly to free himself. A few kliks later, Ironhide ended the 'com call with a muffled curse. Using his other hand to hold the Shuttle even more securely to the floor, Ironhide bent down to speak directly into his audios.

"Stop strugglin' and I'll take ya back to the med-bay."

The words cut through the fog blanketing his processer, and Skyfire immediately fell slack. Ironhide's heavy weight remained holding him down for another long moment before the mech shifted and stood up. Skyfire stumbled back upright as soon as he was free, ignoring the new aches from the short scuffle. Ironhide kept his hand locked around Skyfire's shoulder joint, at a spot Skyfire knew could have him on the ground and unable to move his arms in a moment.

"That was Ratchet," Ironhide said gruffly. "Apparently, Starscream's vitals dropped as soon as you got out of range." Ironhide must have sensed the sudden spike of panic that information caused, because he quickly continued. "He wasn't in any danger. He just… wasn't recovering like he shoulda been, and Ratchet doesn't want ta risk him fallin' deeper inta stasis again."

Skyfire didn't bother responding. He just started moving towards the med-bay again, intent on getting back to Starscream's side as quickly as possible. This time, he didn't try to get away from Ironhide, and the Autobot matched him step for step. He didn't speak again.

The pulse of Starscream's spark eventually started to return to the bond, and Skyfire latched on desperately to the sensation. He pushed on faster, and Ironhide allowed it with barely a grumble. As the med-bay came into sight again, he almost tore through the sliding door. He made a beeline to the berth Starscream laid on, ignoring Ratchet scowling near his side. He had eyes only for his bondmate, and the sight of Starscream made something in his spark finally unclench enough for him to think clearly again.

In the corner of his vision, he caught sight of Ironhide ambling over to Ratchet, and both of them moved a few steps away from Starscream's berth for some privacy. Their conversation carried across the silent room.

"Red Alert's not gonna be happy 'bout this," Ironhide said quietly to Ratchet.

"He's gonna have to deal with it then. This is my med-bay; I outrank even Red Alert here. The Seeker's my patient now, and I'll be slagged if I let any mech put him in any more unnecessary danger."

"Yer choice. Yer the one that's gonna have ta deal with him."

Ratchet snorted. "I'll manage."

They lapsed back into silence, at least until Ratchet opened up a 'com channel and began a rather heated argument with who Skyfire assumed was Red Alert. Skyfire tuned out the muttered dispute, trusting Ratchet would eventually bludgeon the Security Director into submission. He must have succeeded, because the call ended after only a few breems and nobody tried to drag Skyfire out of the med-bay again. Not that Skyfire would have willingly left a second time.

Ratchet eventually scanned Starscream one last time and checked the connected machines before leaving the med-bay once again. He could hear the lock snapping into place as the door slid closed behind him. Ironhide remained behind. He pulled up a chair by the med-bay doors and collapsed into it to stand guard. Once Ironhide was settled, he was easy enough to ignore.

Much as he would have liked to stand vigil over Starscream the entire night, Skyfire still needed to recharge. Eventually, he stood back up and grabbed the closest free medical berth, dragging it over to where Starscream was lying. He adjusted it until it was flush with Starscream's berth before laying down, making sure he was between Starscream and the rest of the room. Even in recharge, nobody else would be able to reach his bonded without him knowing about it. Skyfire fell asleep to the sight of Starscream's lax frame an arm's length away and the soft hum of machinery watching over them.

* * *

><p>….<p>

Not every moment was spent working on Starscream. Ratchet still had his normal duties to carry out, and the war continued on. Nobody spoke about it in Skyfire's presence, but he could still catch glimpses of some of the damage mecha came in with. Blaster bolts, deep dents, armor and energon lines sliced clean through—battle damage. Skyfire did what he could to continue fixing Starscream while Ratchet was otherwise occupied, but he could only do so much without access to any real tools. He fixed some of the surface damage, but he couldn't even use a laser scalpel to remove unusable wiring without Ratchet's supervision. So he spent most of the time doing what he could do over the bond instead. It was still weak, still half-broken and tattered, but Skyfire could feel Starscream on the other end, and he did what he could to support and strengthen his still weak spark.

Ratchet gave them as much privacy as he could, but they were still tucked in the corner of a fully operational med-bay. Skyfire eventually grew used to the sound of mecha moving around behind him. He didn't even notice the newest addition until the mech stopped walking almost directly behind him. Skyfire stiffened, flaring his wings to cover as much of Starscream's frame as possible. He looked over his shoulder, threat assessment already engaged and prepared for any trouble.

His wings fell slightly when he recognized who it was. Fireflight. Just the sight of the youngling's wings made his processer start to relax as he automatically registered the youngling as nonthreatening. Better one of the younglings than any of the other Autobots on base. At least they hadn't had the time to build up the old grudges that might drive them to try something dangerous. Skyfire still checked his face and frame carefully for any sign of anger or dislike, but he only found an open curiosity as he stared at Starscream.

Fireflight didn't even seem to have noticed the warning display. His optics were still glued to the flyer lying motionless on the medical berth, even as he had to look around Skyfire's bulk to see anything.

"He's really a _Seeker,_" Fireflight breathed, taking a step closer. He reached out a hand as if to touch Starscream's wing before pulling it back with a sheepish grin.

Finally, Skyfire realized what all the curious stares and silent conversations meant; it looked like the younglings—or at least Fireflight—had a case of hero worship for Seekers. A small smile curved his lips at the thought. The Aerialbots had only encountered so many Seekers in their young lives, and he knew they'd gone up against Skywarp and Thundercracker by far the most. He wondered whether the two Seekers knew about their admirers; Skywarp at least would find the whole thing hilarious. Skyfire finally relaxed fully; Fireflight really wasn't a threat. Besides, he had missed seeing younglings about after he joined the war.

"Can he fly well?" Fireflight asked eagerly.

"Better than anyone else I've ever known," Skyfire answered honestly.

Fireflight's optics lit up in delight. "Really?" he gasped, wings fluttering happily. "Can I talk to him when he onlines? Please?" His tone turned pleading. "It's just… we haven't really met many other flyers, and there's nobody to show us how to fly or act or… or _anything_. Plus, he's a _Seeker._"

Fireflight got a dreamy look on his face. It almost made Skyfire want to laugh; the whole thing was strangely adorable. How hadn't he known about the obvious hero worship the younglings had? Were they going to start getting strange little visits from the rest of the gestalt soon as well?

"You'll have to ask him, but, if you're superior officers don't disapprove, I don't see any reason why Starscream would turn you down."

He would grumble about it, sure, but Starscream had always harbored a well-hidden fondness for younglings. Starscream would need little convincing to speak with the mecha or give them flying tips and strategies. Particularly after he found out the mecha were being raised exclusively by grounders. Starscream would have a conniption over that little fact.

A loud voice rang out from the other side of the med-bay as Ratchet started yelling at someone, and Fireflight jerked, looking over his shoulder nervously. Skyfire took in the nervous flicker of his wingtips and, paired with the memory of how protective the older Autobots had been earlier, a dawning suspicion started to form.

"Are you supposed to be here?" he asked, hoping the answer was yes but not really expecting it to be.

Fireflight flinched and glanced down at his hands guiltily. "Well, technically. Wheeljack asked me to pick up a few spare parts for him. He's working on building a new joint for Sideswipe since his got all messed up yesterday. Wheeljack doesn't need it right away though."

"You should finish your task before someone comes looking for you then."

"Uh… yeah, probably. They're used to me getting distracted and wandering away for a bit. I always remember and get it done eventually though!" Fireflight sounded very proud of himself about that. He grinned cheerfully and turned around, making his way back towards what looked like a storage area at the back of the med-bay.

Skyfire watched him go with a rather bemused smile. The youngling would probably be back when he got the opportunity, and Skyfire found he didn't mind the idea. He had been a welcome, if rather strange, distraction from his thoughts.

Reaching down, he laid one hand on Starscream's helm. It was warm now, pulsing with life and energy. All his major systems were finished and healthy, though sections of his outer limbs still needed attention. The bond had strengthened with him. It almost felt like the Seeker was just asleep now. Skyfire had outright refused to test it, but he was fairly certain he could go anywhere in the Ark without losing touch with Starscream's spark again. The bond hadn't truly healed from so many millennia of neglect, but the presence of Starscream's spark meant recovery was starting.

Now, Starscream just needed to wake up. So far as Skyfire could tell, nothing was physically holding him back from onlining—he'd _thoroughly_ checked—he just… hadn't onlined. After so many millennia in stasis, there was no telling when he finally would or what would trigger it. He could only hope it would happen soon and do what he could to draw Starscream out over the bond.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Skyfire shouldn't have been surprised that, when Starscream finally onlined, he did so violently and at probably the worst possible time. After all, the Seeker had never been one to take the calm, easy route when he could cause the most chaos possible instead.

Ratchet had just opened up Starscream's arm to start giving the Seeker back a full range of motion. Old, rusted parts were strewn alongside their replacements on the berth, and Starscream's arm was bared from almost hand to shoulder. The intricate armored plating had been carefully removed and stacked on a nearby table. Ratchet's hands were tangled in a particularly difficult snarl of wiring at the joint when it happened.

There was no middle ground, no gradual movement or sign as Starscream onlined for the first time in uncountable vorns. Skyfire had barely an astrosecond to register a sudden shift in the bond before Starscream was jerking into motion. Red optics snapped on, and Starscream wasted no time in struggling at the sight of an unfamiliar mech looming above him. Ratchet let out a startled oath as his hand was yanked around the delicate circuitry, and there was a flurry of movement as Starscream scrambled to get away from the mech while Ratchet cursed and tried to pin the Seeker before he could tear his internals to shreds again.

Meanwhile, Skyfire could only stare at the spectacle in front of him, completely stunned. Feeling Starscream, offline and unaware, across the bond was nothing compared to the riot of sensation, of _life_ when he onlined. Skyfire couldn't move, too entranced by the pulse of life inside the bond, until Ratchet snapped at him to get over and _help _him, slaggit. Ratchet had managed to pin Starscream's exposed arm and part of his chest to the berth, but the rest of his frame was free and Starscream was making full use of it, flailing and scratching wildly at his surroundings. Leaning around Ratchet, Skyfire took ahold of his free arm, holding the Seeker back against the berth again. Bright red optics flickered over his frame without recognition, and Starscream continued to struggle.

"Calm yourself, Starscream," Skyfire ordered, simultaneously reaching out mentally through the bond. He immediately hit a wall of panicked confusion and pain, and he sent a wave of calmness and safety back at him. Starscream finally stilled at the familiar mental touch, his optics sharpening on Skyfire's face, and the panic began to recede.

As soon as Starscream stopped struggling, Ratchet stepped backwards and started checking some of the machines, giving them some small measure of privacy. Skyfire spared him a brief, grateful thought, but most of his processer was focused on his bondmate staring up at him with wide optics and humming systems.

"Skyfire?" Starscream asked uncertainly, and Skyfire could barely conceal the shudder of emotions that passed through him at the sound of his voice. "Wha- what's going on? The storm-"

"Over," Skyfire answered. He let Starscream's arms go, moving back slightly, when he was sure the Seeker was calm. He still kept one hand against Starscream's plating to feel the steady thrum of his systems. "You were buried under the ice and sent into forced stasis. It's only been an orn since we were able to free you."

Starscream tried to push himself up, but Skyfire carefully pressed him back into the berth. "Don't move. You were injured when we managed to find you."

Starscream sent a light spike of annoyance at him, but he didn't try to sit up again, though he did glance over to see the damage for himself. He lifted his hand, and Skyfire had to reach over to stop him from prodding the still exposed wires in his arm. An almost painful rush of fondness filled Skyfire's spark; this was familiar, this was _Starscream, _acting exactly the same as he had back when they were still just scientists. He wanted to... he didn't know what he wanted to do, but just watching Starscream, moving and healthy and _online_-was enough to make his spark overflow with emotion. If Starscream noticed, he didn't say anything.

"How long was I out?" Stasrcream asked idly, glancing around the room. He seemed to relax at the familiar Cybertronian design of the med-bay and brushed some of the dirty spare parts away from his frame with a grimace. "And where'd you find the med-bay? I didn't think there were any inhabited planets in this sector."

Skyfire flinched at the question. Of _course _Starscream would ask the hardest question first. He had no intention of trying to hide what had happened from the Seeker. Pit, even if he wanted to, it would be impossible to conceal. Just- not yet. Not when Starscream had just woken up and Skyfire's emotions were still reeling from the rekindling of the bond.

"Skyfire?" Starscream repeated. His tone took on a hint of suspicion at the extended silence, red optics brightening minutely as his gaze focused. He sent a questioning probe across the connection, looking for the answer himself, but Skyfire immediately repelled the curious touch as soon as he felt its light presence. Much as it pained him to block off the newly repaired bond in any way, there was no way in the Pit that Starscream was going to find out like _that. _A muted sense of frustration and confusion trickle to him at the light block, but Starscream didn't try to force his way through. Instead, there was a brief sense of surprise, then Starscream's presence fanned out to brush against the bond itself.

Skyfire offlined his optics, but he didn't try to stop him. He knew what the Seeker would find. The brief time since Starscream had been uncovered hadn't been near enough to heal the old damage of the long dormant bond. Even if he wanted to delay the investigation until the bond had recovered somewhat, he wouldn't be able to hide it from his partner.

It wasn't long before muffled waves of shock and horror pressed against his spark. Starscream had found the deep wounds and knotted scars that suffused the connection, and Skyfire still didn't know how he could possibly explain it to him.

Starscream's sharp, horrified voice filled his processer. "Skyfire, _how long was I-"_

Skyfire cut him off before he could finish the frantic demand. "The mech you knocked away is called Ratchet," he said quickly, not meeting his partner's optics. "He's the building's medic. He was fixing some of the systems that had been damaged during your time in stasis, and hadn't gotten a chance to put you back together before you onlined."

Starscream glared at him, annoyance lapping at Skyfire's mind at the misdirection. He was saved from an argument as Ratchet stepped closer to his patient; the unfamiliar presence immediately drew Starscream's attention and suspicion, and Skyfire knew that the Seeker wouldn't discuss anything personal with a stranger listening in. He was guiltily relieved at that.

"Fine," Starscream spat at Skyfire. "But don't think for a klik that I've forgotten about this."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

And despite everything else—the way Starscream glared at Ratchet distrustfully as he started working on the repairs again, the uncertain future facing them, even the knowledge that Starscream was going to ambush him for answers as soon as they were alone—Skyfire smiled. Because Starscream was here, alive and vibrant and familiar, and for now that was all that mattered.

~.*.~

**AN**: I have had that last scene mostly written for... huh. About three years now; it was one of the first scenes I ever wrote for this story. And Starscream's finally awake (for only one rather short scene, but still)! I have so many random scenes I'm really excited about writing and including now; I just need to figure out the best way to connect them :). College is rather unpredictable, but updates should continue regularly.


	18. Painful Knowledge

Tangled Destiny

Chapter 18: Painful Knowledge

* * *

><p>That cycle, Skyfire was saved from having to find the words to explain all that had happened. Starscream had behaved remarkably well—for him, at least—while Ratchet worked. He obeyed Ratchet's instructions with the ease of a mech who'd never had cause to distrust a medic and only the normal amount of grumbling. Over the bond, Skyfire could feel him dismissing Ratchet as unimportant, sparing less processer power on making sure the medic didn't try anything than Skyfire did. Instead, Starscream focused all his energy on a less visible target: the bond.<p>

Skyfire spent the following breems fending off Starscream's attempts to move deeper into his spark. He let their surface emotions and sensations mix, but he brushed Starscream away every time he tried to trace the darker emotions deeper, to their source. Starscream's frustration followed him, and Skyfire could feel a familiar, burning curiosity start to take root. Skyfire winced-once Starscream fixated on something, he _never_ let it go.

He fully expected Starscream to start accosting him as soon as Ratchet moved out of hearing range, but only a cycle after Starscream woke up the whirl of his thoughts and emotions across the bond started to slow. Starscream tried to fight it, to force his systems to keep running at full power through sheer force of will, but even he couldn't deny the needs of his frame forever. Skyfire knew he should say something to get Starscream to relax, but he found the words wouldn't come. He couldn't stop the small, irrational spike of fear at the thought of Starscream offlining again. He'd _just_ woken up-what if he went back into stasis? Skyfire knew logically that it was impossible-Starscream's frame had healed too much to shut down that far again-but that didn't stop him from worrying.

After the second time Starscream nearly fell into recharge and flailed himself back online again, knocking parts and tools around helterskelter, Ratchet snapped.

Slamming a microwelder down on a cart, Ratchet snarled, "Just relax before you slag up your circuits again! Your frame isn't used to functioning at full power yet."

Starscream grimaced and immediately opened his mouth to argue. He never had been good at accepting his limitations, particularly when others pointed them out, .

Skyfire cut him off before he could get started. "It's alright," he said, gently pushing Starscream back down onto the berth. "I'll still be here when you wake up again."

Starscream stayed where Skyfire had guided him, which was as good as an agreement from him. And not a moment too soon; the effects of his exhaustion were already hitting him full-force again, and his optics began to flicker as his frame tried to enter recharge.

"You better," Starscream managed to murmur, but his voice was already starting to fade as he slipped offline. Starscream's consciousness brushed against his one last time-just a flicker of trust and worry and reluctant acquiescence-before fading into unconsciousness. Even after the last flare of thought or emotion quieted, Skyfire didn't pull away from the bond. He stayed, letting the subdued, combined pulse of their sparks wash over him.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Ratchet left them alone as soon as he packed up his kit. Soon enough, another Autobot came in with something for him to fix, leaving Skyfire as alone as he could be in the med-bay. Skyfire spent the next few breems just… sitting there. Not thinking, not planning, just existing. Pretending, he supposed, that nothing had changed and he was just a mech watching over his recharging bondmate, without any war or grief or ethical dilemmas to complicate it. It was a fragile illusion, and he let it fade as soon as he heard someone approaching their corner.

Glancing over his shoulder, Skyfire wasn't surprised at all to find Jazz standing there. He turned to face the Saboteur, though he kept one hand pressed against Starscream's side just to feel the pulse of life.

He spoke first. "I want you to leave Starscream out of this," Skyfire said. "No questions, no manipulations, nothing." He didn't raise his voice, but the uncompromising determination in it was unmistakable. He wouldn't let Starscream become just another pawn in this war, a tool to ensure his obedience. The Seeker deserved better than that.

Jazz actually _laughed_ at that. Skyfire felt somewhat insulted.

"How _does_ a mech like you end up as a 'Con," he mused, still chuckling lightly. "An Iacon mech, calm, Academy trained, bonded, … A'course the first words outta yer mouth are ta protect yer bonded." He casually snatched up one of the pieces of scrap still scattered nearby, spinning it idly in his hands "Don't worry. Nothin's gonna happen ta yer bondmate. An' trust me, I speak fer all a us when I say we just want all this ta go smoothly; messin' with bondmates has no part in that. 'Sides, he's a Neutral. The last Neutral, probably. Nobody's gonna hurt him.

Skyfire wasn't so trusting. "Neutrality doesn't always mean safety, particularly when one has connections to the 'Cons," he countered.

Unbidden, his thoughts drifted back to the distant past, back before he'd been an official Decepticon. He'd just been a Shuttle and befriended-not even bonded-to Decepticon Seekers, but that had been enough to get him marked as a traitor and nearly deactivated. Now, both sides had the pent-up anger and hatred of an entire war behind them. It would only take one mech to decide the best way to get revenge was to attack a 'Con's bondmate, no matter what placating promises Jazz offered.

Jazz seemed to notice something off. His visor darkened slightly, and the remaining mirth disappeared. "Ya speaking from experience?" he asked.

Skyfire said nothing, but his hand tightened against the berth. He saw Jazz's visor follow the small movement and forced himself to relax, but Jazz had already seen. Skyfire could practically see the gears turning as he watched.

"Ya know," Jazz started, still staring at him with an eerily discerning visor. "I remember what Iacon was like early on, when Sentinel and the old Council were still in charge. Could be a real hostile place for a mech who didn't fit in. An' a mech sympathetic towards Seekers woulda been strange indeed."

Skyfire purposefully didn't look at Jazz. He didn't know how much Jazz had figured out, but he did not like where this was going. The last thing he wanted was for the Autobot to uncover just who Starscream was trinebonded to. The mech was dancing too close to a dangerous truth, and he'd already stumbled across a very sensitive subject. The past was supposed to stay buried. That part of his life held enough scars, grief, and betrayal to last a lifetime; he didn't need a reminder.

"Does this have any bearing on the current situation?" he asked tightly

Jazz seemed to have realized he'd hit a limit. He backed off, smoothly letting the subject go. "Nah. I guess not."

He straightened, stretching the kinks out of his arms with a graceful twist of the plating. The piece of scrap he'd been toying with was thrown unceremoniously back on the berth, Jazz had a secretive little smile on his face, as if he'd finally managed to figure out some great mystery.

"_Any_way," he said cheerfully, regaining his previous humor. "I'm bettin' that neither of ya are gonna be wanting to say in the med-bay for much longer. It's a bit too… open for comfort, don't ya think?" He encompassed the room, with all its wide open space and empty berths, with a sweeping gesture. "Ratchet's declared yer bondmate stable enough ta be moved ta a different location, an' the Higher Ups have agreed ta let ya stay in an actual room. Kinda." He shrugged, a sort of 'well, what can you do?' gesture. "Red took some convincin' an' ya'll still be under heavy guard, but it's a fair 'nough deal."

That was an understatement. A room to themselves, actual _privacy_ away from the bustle of the med-bay and the overt optics of the guards? It was an attractive idea, which automatically made Skyfire suspicious. Nothing was free, especially not to prisoners.

"And what will that room cost?" he asked.

Jazz shrugged. "Just yer cooperation. Simple enough."

And by that, Jazz meant upholding the deal he'd made with the Prime. Starscream's retrieval in exchange for intel and thus his place as a Decepticon. Simple, he supposed, but not easy. He wondered if that meant he'd been upgraded from temporary prisoner to potential informant in the optics of the High Command.

"When can we go?" he asked.

Jazz smiled, probably at the unspoken acknowledgment of their deal. "If yer up ta it, I can bring ya both ta yer new quarters now. Let ya have a bit of privacy ta talk fer the next time he wakes up."

"That would be appreciated."

Skyfire stood up, reaching for his bondmate. Starscream was as light as he remembered, and he fit easily into Skyfire's arms. The only device left connected to Starscream's frame was the spark monitor quietly plodding along, and that was easy enough to carry with them. Jazz, thankfully, let the walk through the Ark happen in silence. No more prodding questions or knowledgeable looks. Just a quiet, uncomplicated journey that took them through almost empty halls. Skyfire used the time to collect himself, sorting through and controlling his emotions.

Jazz's comment had shaken him more than he cared to admit. He didn't know how much Jazz had managed to figure out, but it was enough to make Skyfire worry. Jazz knew-or at least suspected-that his connection to Starscream had forced him into the Decepticons. He could only hope that the Saboteur didn't figure out how Starscream's trinemates might fit into that, let alone that the mecha were still healthy, online, and part of Decepticon High Command. The fallout from that bit of information going public would be spectacularly bad

Jazz led him about a hallway away from where the brig was, an area that was still relatively isolated from the rest of the ship. The Autobot turned to him before entering the passcode. "We can give ya some time ta get yer bondmate settled an' bring him up ta speed, but we can't give ya forever. The information ya have can save lives. So long as ya hold up yer end a the deal, we won't have any problems."

Shifting so that his frame blocked the number pad, he inputted a long string of digits, and the door slid open in response. Jazz stepped away from the door frame, gesturing for Skyfire to enter.

The room itself was as good as could be expected. It was small, likely some old storage area, but it had berths big enough for the both of them and a few standard chairs. At first glance, he couldn't see any cameras, though he knew they had to be hidden somewhere. The one thing Skyfire really cared about was the room had an actual, solid door. It only locked from the outside, of course, but at least it wasn't bars or thick restraints.

Skyfire carefully set Starscream down on the nearest berth, arranging his wings so they lay flat beneath him. When he turned around, Jazz had already soundlessly left, and the door was presumably locked behind him. Skyfire didn't test it. Instead, he pulled up a chair and resumed his vigil by Starscream's side. This time, though, there wasn't any optics watching them or footsteps echoing behind them. The room was silent and blissfully empty, which automatically made it better than their previous accommodations.

Time passed in silence, and Skyfire was left with nothing but his thoughts to occupy him. Eventually, his processer started pinging him with his need to recharge, but Skyfire found he couldn't engage the protocols yet. His processer was a whirl of activity, worries and plans that couldn't be pushed off till later.

Above all, he needed to figure out what he was going to do when Jazz came back for his side of the deal.

He briefly toyed with the idea of refusing to cooperate, but the thought was immediately discarded as repulsive. After all, _he_ had set the terms. _He_ had been the one to propose trading information for his bondmate. Now, he had to accept the consequences. The war had taken many things from him, had forced him into situations he'd never had imagined and changed him fundamentally, but he still had some honor. The trade was a good one, a _fair_ one: he'd make it again in an instant if he had to. And yet… the decision wasn't quite so clear cut.

He'd promised the Autobots information, but he hadn't specified exactly what info they'd be receiving. So far as the Autobots knew, he was a no-name medic who just happened to be stationed on the Nemesis. All he needed to do was give them just enough information to avoid suspicion but no more. Much of his control over his own frame had been locked away from him, but Skyfire still had control over his own memory. He could permanently delete the most dangerous files if he chose and say that only Hook had been allowed access to the High Command's schematics. The Autobots wouldn't know the difference. Yes, it would still give the Autobots an advantage and he'd still be branded a traitor, but he wouldn't be completely abandoning the cause.

He just needed to decide whether he wants to.

Autobots or Decepticons. It should have been an easy choice. The Decepticons had fought to overthrow an admittedly corrupt, stagnated system. For equality among all frametypes. It was the faction Skywarp and Thundercracker had joined and the one Skyfire had spent most of his life fighting for. The Autobots had been the ones to force him into enlisting, and for that alone Skyfire should resist helping them any more than necessary. Yet…

Megatron was also the mech who had slagged Thundercracker for events outside his control. Who openly disdained all noncombatants and wanted every last Autobot deactivated. Maybe once he'd been a worthy leader, if any part of the charismatic revolutionary had been real, but whether Megatron had been lying or the war had twisted him into something crueler, Skyfire had long since lost his respect for the Decepticon Commander.

The Prime might be just as bad as Megatron and his predecessors had been, but Skyfire found himself actually doubting that. He'd treated Skyfire far better than a prisoner of war had any right to expect. He'd let Skyfire search for his bondmate without having to give up any info first and had even respected his privacy as much as possible. It wasn't nearly enough to trust the mech to have the good of their entire race as a priority, but it was at least something.

If he helped the Autobots-truly helped them, with every scrap of information he'd learned in his megavorns of service-then that might give the Autobots the advantage they needed to end the long stalemate both factions had been stuck in. Maybe the war would finally end. Maybe the killing and destruction would stop and they would finally, finally be able to rebuild. At this point, with Cybertron half destroyed and their race dying, that was probably the best he could hope for.

The berth rustled as Starscream shifted in his sleep. His face crinkled slightly as he made a soft, unhappy sound, and Skyfire reached down to smooth the tense lines away. Combined with the reassurance over the bond, Starscream settled down quickly. Skyfire didn't move his hand, instead keeping it resting lightly against Starscream's cheek. _This_ was why he could never regret the deal he'd made.

He offlined his optics, leaning forward so he could better feel the quiet signs of life. Even now, with Starscream solid beneath his hand and the bond warm and healing, he still couldn't quite believe it was real. His breath caught, and he shuddered, holding Starscream tighter as if that would make him seem real again. Getting Starscream back wasn't supposed to hurt, but it did. A deep ache that seemed to hollow out his chest, as if reigniting the bond had used up all the strength he had left.

He'd mourned for Starscream for megavorns. In many ways, he'd never stopped, just grown used to the emptiness and learned how to function despite it. The pain of Starscream's deactivation had been an old, familiar ache, scarred over by time: a part of him just as much as the sparkbond. Having Starscream back couldn't erase half a lifetime of grief and absence, no matter how much he wished it could. It didn't replace the fact that he'd abandoned his bondmate, had barely even tried to get the funding to return to Earth and search again. And a little voice kept telling him that maybe if he'd tried just a little harder, searched a little longer, he could have found Starscream and brought him home.

Starscream made a soft, wordless noise, and his spark slowly started to drift back towards awareness. Skyfire jerked his hand away and sent pulses of safe and calm and relax at the Seeker. He didn't want a repeat of last time. Starscream's half-conscious spark reached back, twining easily with his emotions, and the Seeker hummed contentedly. Annoyance and the slight, itching pin of integrating parts echoed over the sparkbond as more systems onlined, and Starscream, still mostly asleep, reached over and started scratching at the new repairs to his arm. His optics blazed to life at only half power and he stretched luxuriously across the berth. Only then did he fully online his optics and glance curiously around him.

His face crinkled in confusion when he noticed Skyfire staring at him and his mouth opened—probably to say something snarky-but the words died on his lips. Concern burst across the bond as he pushed himself upright, and he deepened the bond, trying to feel for whatever had upset him. Skyfire flinched back, away from the mental touch. For the second time since he found Starscream, Skyfire willingly closed himself off from the bond. He didn't want Starscream to have to feel this.

"I-sorry. I shouldn't have-" he stammered. He couldn't find the words to explain what he'd wanted, so he pulled away. He tried to turn, but an iron grip on his wrist stopped him. Starscream.

"Don't block me out. Not again," Starscream commanded, voice still rough with sleep. "You're hiding from me, and I can tell you're struggling with something. Tell me what's wrong. At least stop _hiding_ it."

The words were accompanied by a pulse against the blocks he'd put up-not strong enough to be an attempt to break through them, just a reminder that Starscream wanted the blocks gone. Unwilling to force Starscream to let go, Skyfire just offlined his optics to escape his searching gaze, feeling like the worst kind of coward. A hand, then two, brushed against his face before pulling his frame downward. He onlined his optics to see Starscream looking intently at him,

"_Show_ me." he whispered. The constant, gentle pressure stayed pressed against the block separating the bond.

Skyfire tried to retreat, to push everything away again until he could deal with it on his own, but Starscream didn't let him. He followed, and this time he didn't try to force his way deeper. He was just _there_-waiting, worried, almost gentle-and that made the difference.

Skyfire broke.

With a pained, almost desperate sound, Skyfire lurched forward. He didn't think, didn't even know what he was going to do, he just knew that, in that moment, he needed the physical contact. _Needed_ the reassurance that Starscream was still online and here like he needed energon. Starscream stiffened in surprise, but he didn't pull away. Eventually, his hands even came up hesitantly to return the embrace.

Skyfire clutched Starscream to him, almost hard enough to dent plating. Starscream felt so small, almost delicate compared to him. Starscream had never needed to be reinforced for war. He had the thin, flexible plating of a Seeker, and Skyfire could feel the whirl of circuitry and machinery hidden below. Starscream started brushing his hands along Skyfire's plating in soothing strokes, and Skyfire almost sobbed in-relief? Pain? Joy? He didn't even know anymore.

His emotions were such a tangled mess that he didn't know where to start to unravel them. Guilt that he'd left Starscream stasis-ridden and alone for millennia. Relief that his bondmate hadn't had to endure the unending war that had crippled their race. Fear of how Starscream would react once he realized all that he'd missed. And above all, a cripplingly intense wonder that he had his sparkmate back, alive and healthy.

And Starscream was right there with him, acknowledging each emotion and trying to pull Skyfire away from the most painful ones. Eventually, Skyfire was able to use his steady, constant presence as an anchor to start pulling himself together and return to the real world. It took a moment for Skyfire to come back to himself long enough to understand what Starscream was saying: words of comfort that fit awkwardly in his mouth intermixed with violent threats towards whoever had hurt him. It was so purely, uniquely Starscream that it made him choke on a sound that was half laugh, half sob.

Eventually, the tremors started to slow, and the tumulous whirl of his spark began to calm. He felt wrung out in its absence, empty and cold but not quite so brittle as before. When the worst was over and Skyfire was limp against his bondmate, he felt Starscream start to shift underneath him. Skyfire automatically tightened his grip, but the Seeker didn't try to pull free. Instead, Starscream shuffled further across the berth, tugging Skyfire along with him. It took some maneuvering, but Skyfire eventually found himself lying beside Starscream, pressing the Seeker between himself and the wall behind him.

It was a tight fit. It made Skyfire think of their exploring days, when they'd often recharge curled against each other for warmth or safety or comfort. So he tucked Starscream against his chest, curling around him until he had the Seeker entirely covered. Only then did he feel safe. Nothing could hurt Starscream like this, not without going through him first, and he would never let that happen. Not again.

Like this, he could feel every pulse of Starscream's spark and the warmth radiating off his plating. Every twitch, every soft murmur of sound was noted and recorded; a reminder of what he had. Emotionally and physically exhausted, he slowly sunk into recharge, lulled by the quiet symphony of Starscream's living frame.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Skyfire onlined slower than he had in millenia. His frame felt heavy, relaxed and pleasantly lethargic in a way he could barely remember feeling. Something warm and familiar was loosely encircled in his arms, and he shifted closer, nuzzling lightly against it. A pair of wings, folded back out of the way, brushed against his hand, and reality crashed back. Skyfire snapped his optics back online to find Starscream already awake and silently watching him.

"What are you hiding from me?" he asked quietly. It wasn't an accusation, though it easily could have been. His voice was too soft, too open and almost sad. It was simply a question, yet it was still more powerful than any anger could have been.

"Not hiding," Skyfire objected self-consciously. "I just… don't know how to tell you."

He could feel Starscream's annoyance starting to build up again, so he let Starscream see the truth of that statement. He had no slagging clue what to tell him. Even if he had a vorn to try to figure it out, he doubted he could find an easy way to tell him what had happened to Cybertron and their race.

Starscream huffed, but the annoyance had subsided, leaving only a deep desire for knowledge. "How about you start with where we are," he prompted.

It was as good a place as any to begin. "We're still on the planet. Haven't left," Skyfire started. He hesitated there. How was he supposed to convey just how much had happened in between his two visits to Earth?

Starscream looked up at him, head tilted in confusion. "Where'd all this come from then?" he asked, gesturing around at the room. "The planet was supposedly uninhabited. This is pretty shoddy craftsmanship-probably won't even last a few vorns-but it's obviously Cybertronian. It would have taken a while to get permission for the build, especially since they have an actual medic with them."

Skyfire let out a heavy, shuddering breath and pulled the Seeker closer. "You missed a lot," he said quietly. "It's been more than enough time for that. I… I thought you deactivated. I couldn't feel you anymore, and by the time the energon ran out I couldn't sense anything below the ice. I looked for as long as I could, but our energon converter had been lost in the storm. I had to leave you here and return to Cybertron alone"

He had to pause as emotion choked his vocalizer. His voice was still rough when he was able to continue. "If I'd known you were still alive, I wouldn't have stopped. I would have at least fought to come back, but I-" He'd thought there'd been nothing to come back for. He'd known the Academy wouldn't condone the energy expenditure just for the chance to retrieve Starscream's frame, and so he hadn't even tried. "I'm sorry," he finished weakly, knowing the words were far too inadequate to express the depths of his regret.

Starscream patted his arm awkwardly,more worried about the thought of watching him lose control again than the missed time he couldn't even remember . "It's alright," he tried. "I know you—you wouldn't have left if you had any other option." He frowned. "And I shouldn't have been so slagging careless to get caught in that storm, let alone _crash_." He spat out the word as if it was a curse, which to him it might as well have been.

That should have been Skyfire's cue to tease him about his admittedly well-deserved pride in his flying ability—an old joke turned tradition-but Skyfire couldn't bring himself to make light of the situation.

Of course, Starscream noticed. "That's not all, is it," he stated more than asked. "Something else happened, more than just leaving me in the ice for a while. Something _important_. What is it?"

"I couldn't come back to recover you right away," Skyfire admitted. "I- wasn't fit for another expedition, and energy shortages became more common. Then… there was a war. A civil war, one we're still fighting. That's what this place is: a military base."

Starscream stiffened, wings flaring out in surprise. "A civil war?" he breathed, shaking his head in astonishment. He recovered his equilibrium quickly, buffering his more vulnerable emotions with a familiar bravado. "With the way the Council was acting it's not _that_ surprising. Either the Council needed to get their heads out of their afts, or somebody was gonna do something to stop them. I wouldn't have thought it would take full out war for them to stop being bigoted idiots though." He paused, eyeing Skyfire with sharp optics. "But if this is a military base, then what are you doing here?"

Skyfire glanced away self-consciously. "Your Trine joined the rebellion relatively early in the war. Eventually, I was forced to join as well." He stopped, waiting for the fireworks. He wasn't disappointed.

"_You_?" Starscream spluttered. The Seeker stared at him as if he'd just declared his undying love for interpretive dance. "You joined a war? But you're a pacifist! Pit, you're practically the definition of a pacifist!"

"Eventually, staying neutral wasn't an option anymore."

"But you-"

_"It wasn't an option_, Starscream," Skyfire interrupted a bit harsher than he would have liked. Starscream fell silent, staring at him in surprise.

Skyfire took a deep breath, and he managed to continue more calmly. "Thankfully, I wasn't forced to be a warrior. After your trinemates started showing up with minor, untreated damage, I learned the basics of the trade so I could help fix them when I could. Skywarp and Thundercracker helped me get a position as a medic, and I received some more formal education after enlistment. It was unpleasant, but not completely against my coding."

Starscream's surprise had faded into thoughtfulness. At least he'd stopped looking at him as if he was a stranger. "I probably shouldn't be surprised that you took up medicine," he mused. "It fits you. But why would they come to a backwater planet like this one? I mean, it's not like this place could possibly be a strategic location, and-" He stopped, optics flaring in realization. "The energy. That's why. They were already struggling with energon production before the expedition. No way a war didn't make that worse."

Starscream felt so pleased with himself at figuring it out that Skyfire couldn't help but smile. "You're right. A major energy crisis was one of the big problems that started the whole war. At first, the Council declared that this planet was too far away to be worth scavenging, but the war changed that. The Prime managed to find records of our expedition. He took his flagship and Command Staff to gather the energy resources, and the Decepticons-the other faction-followed. Right now, the planet's probably the biggest battleground left."

Starscream gave a soft noise of acknowledgement. His optics unfocused, and he stared off in thought, A few kliks later, he abruptly turned back to Skyfire with a sharp gleam in his optics.

"I want to see," he said unceremoniously. His intentions were clear over the bond, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

Skyfire winced at the thought. "It's not… pleasant," he said. An understatement if there ever was one. The war was as far from pleasant as possible.

Undeterred, Starscream gave him a flat look. "That's _why_ I need to see. You joined an army-without me. I need to at least know what happened, and I know if I just ask you to explain you'll gloss over all the important parts."

Skyfire reluctantly had to agree. Without a word, he shifted so that he could bring the data port hidden under the plating of his arm into view. Starscream quickly did the same, then popped open the data port and unspooled the thin cable inside. He held out the tip and fixed Skyfire with an expectant look.

Looking at the small cable, Skyfire hesitated. It had been a long time since he'd voluntarily let someone into his processer. Medical access ports were different; they were designed to allow medics' access without needing to lower any firewalls. This was far more personal. It was lowering your firewalls to let someone _into_ your processer, where they could freely access memory files and core coding, even thoughts and impressions. Skywarp and Thundercracker had been the only mecha he trusted enough to allow inside his firewalls, and even then it wasn't something they'd ever needed to do.

Still… he trusted Starscream, spark and processer, and letting the Seeker access the memories directly would do a far better job of making Starscream understand what had happened than mere words could. It still took more effort than it should have to actually reach down and expose his data port for the connection.

Starscream plugged them together, and the physical world immediately took a backseat to the incorporal. Starscream swept into his processer like he belonged among the code, which Skyfire supposed wasn't too far from the truth. They'd never shared memories often, but it had been perfectly normal even before they bonded. After linking their sparks together, connecting processers wasn't nearly as intimate.

Time hadn't taken away the familiarity between their frames, and their processers melded together easily. Skyfire could feel the constant undercurrent of each thought being formed and he knew that, if he wanted to, he could trace each thought back to its source and feel each emotion, memory, or bit of code that had led to its formation.

Starscream immediately made his way over to Skyfire's memory cache, and Skyfire guided him the rest of the way to the files he wanted. It had been a long time, but he easily found the memories that marked the beginning of his involvement in the war, skipping past the first, mind-numbing vorns of grief after the disastrous expedition. After flagging the right memories, he let Starscream take charge of what he wanted to see.

Starscream brushed briefly across the events leading up to the war: the worsening energy problems, the growing distrust towards military and air frames, the growing discontent even in Iacon, and all the other subtle signs that events were spiraling towards a climax. Starscream nearly skipped over the first Decepticon rally he'd attended as well, but Skyfire pulled him back to the memory file. He wanted Starscream to see Megatron the way he'd been at the beginning: charming, captivating, _grandiose_. He let Starscream see the nobility of his cause and the reason why so many had flocked to his side. But he also showed Starscream the ineffable sense of wrongness that the rally had left him with.

The next few centuries garnered only a few brief clips of memory, more impression than anything: his worry over Skywarp and Thundercracker and subsequent foray into medicine. Starscream very nearly stopped when he came across the vast stores of medical knowledge Skyfire had accumulated over the war, but Skyfire pulled him further ahead with promises of more important memories. He'd let Starscream investigate his medical knowledge later, if he was still interested.

He shared Starscream's horror when the Autobots caught up with them in his Iacon quarters and how quickly it turned into fury as they fought. Those memory files were slightly fragmented from the damage he'd received, which only made it worse. Starscream could feel how close Skyfire had come to deactivation that orn and then how desperate he'd been after they'd escaped and found nobody they could trust to repair his injuries. For the first time,Starscream faltered in his search as everything he'd missed-the war, the danger, the deactivations-suddenly became real. It was one thing to hear a war had started, but quite another to actually see its effects firsthand. Most of his burning curiosity fled at the reminder, but determination to see it through remained.

After that, there was only the war. He did what he could to shield Starscream from the worst of the war, but he couldn't completely hide how bad it had been. How many mecha had died under his care and how many more had deactivated out on the battlefield. The way their entire planet had been slowly engulfed in the war and then started falling apart piece by piece. Each new revelation left Starscream more and more somber, and he flinched away from the sight of each new deactivation, let alone the sight of any corpse-strewn battlefield that Skyfire was too slow to shield him from.

Iacon was the worst. Skyfire tried to skip over the actual fall of their old home, but Starscream didn't let him. He watched every astrosecond Skyfire had of the Academy's collapse and Iacon's destruction. Grief and disbelief radiated from his spark, but the memory files didn't lie. Iacon had burned. Their old home, the crown jewel of Cybertron, had fallen, leavin gonly ash and hollowed metal skeletons to mark what had once been Cybertron's largest city.

When the memory finished, Skyfire tugged them both away from his memory bank.

"That's enough for now," he said aloud. He knew it was bad when Starscream didn't even try to argue. Skyfire gently disconnected them from each other, spooling the cables back under their armor and closing off the data ports. He easily ignored the disorientation from coming back to the physical world and waited for Starscream to do the same.

Starscream still hadn't moved from where he'd been lying during the memory share. If anything, he'd curled even closer to Skyfire since then, burying his face against Skyfire's armor. His frame shuddered once, and Skyfire tried to sooth him with long strokes down his back. He did what he could do offer comfort across the bond, but Starscream's spark flinched away from him, condensing inward protectively as he tried to come to terms with the news. It was a long while before Starscream was able to gather himself enough to speak. His helm stayed pressed against Skyfire's chest, as if blocking out the rest of the world would make the news easier to hear.

"How many," he whispered, voice rough with emotion. "How many of the cities are gone?"

Skyfire held Starscream tighter, as if that would make the news easier to hear.

"All of the major ones. Most of the smaller ones as well. The rest of them have either been converted to a defensive military base or abandoned." Mostly abandoned. They hadn't built their cities to withstand war, and anyplace a mecha couldn't defend himself was a target. Better abandoned than destroyed, he supposed, but it was a bitter comfort at best.

Starscream shuddered. "And how many people have deactivated?"

It was a question that still haunted Skyfire's recharge cycles. "I don't even know anymore. We stopped keeping track of the death toll a long time ago, after it got real bad," he had to admit. "There's only a few dozen of us here on Earth, and we've been out of contact with Cybertron for megavorns."

Starscream jerked in his arms. When Skyfire didn't let him go, he twisted so that he could meet the Shuttle's optics. "But-that _can't_ be right! How could you lose track like that unless-" His vocalizer fizzled into static as realization hit. His voice was quieter, stunned when he continued. "There's not many of us left now, is there."

Skyfire shook his head, unable to deny it. Even the most optimistic prediction still left the vast majority of their race deactivated. At worst? It was very possible they were facing extinction, and the possibility grew more likely every orn the war continued.

Starscream shook his head in denial. "Why didn't anyone _stop_ it?" he asked, voice breaking. "This- this is even worse than what they were trying to stop. At least then they were online and Cybertron was still-" His voice stuttered, and grief flared in his spark.

"I know." he said quietly. It was the only thing he could say, really; with something like this, nothing could help. Only time could do that, and even then the scars would never truly fade. Silence reigned for a time before Starscream broke it.

"I want my Trine," Starscream said quietly, curled in on himself. In that moment, he sounded painfully young. Which, Skyfire realized with a jolt, he actually was now, compared to him. Starscream looked up at him and asked, "Where are they?"

"You mean you can't feel them?" he blurted out

The flagship wasn't _that_ far away from the Ark. Their trinebond shouldn't have any problem connecting-and Primus, he didn't even want to think about how Skywarp and Thundercracker were going to react to that-but Starscream didn't even know where they were. His spark must be weaker than Skyfire had thought.

Starscream's face crinkled in confusion. "Should I be able to?" he asked. "I thought-they're not here. Aren't they still on Cybertron?"

Slag. He couldn't just ignore it; Starscream already suspected something was wrong, and he didn't want the Seeker to start exploring on his own and come to the wrong conclusion. Bracing himself, he said, "Don't panic, ok?" He waited for Starscream's nod before continuing. "They're here, on Earth"

Starscream jerked violently in his arms "What?" he yelped. "They're on planet? Why can't I feel them?" He dove down in his spark, feeling for the anchor where the trine bond lay. His voice grew higher, almost hysterical when he found it empty. "I can't feel them at all. It's like they're not even-"

Skyfire could feel panic forming, and he rushed to reassure him. "Calm down, it's alright. They're both undamaged." he said "Like I said, your spark was very weak when we found you. At first, I wasn't able to feel your presence at all, but you grew stronger with the repairs. I'm sure that's all it is. They'll be back soon."

The reassurance didn't seem to help. If anything, Starscream only seemed even more bewildered. "That shouldn't be possible. Bonds just don't _do_ that." He paused, and Skyfire could feel him reaching out towards the edges of the bond, where the scars and neglect were still visible. "Is that what happened to our bond?"

Skyfire nodded. "It's been getting better since I got you back. Healing." He sent a reassuring pulse to Starscream, hoping he'd notice how much the ragged edges had already started to smooth since he'd first awoken. "The bond will go back to normal "

He could feel that Starscream didn't quite believe him. No words could overcome the feel of an empty bond. This time, it was his turn to hold Starscream together as he mourned.

~.*.~

**AN**: Sorry for the lateness: emotions are hard and college is unpredictable. So, just some clarification for my head-cannon about Cybertron anatomy. In my mind, spark bonds are basically links between the heart/soul, so emotions and sensations are shared. On the other hand, a cable link is letting someone access your physical processer, which means words and memories are shared. Cable links are a whole lot less intimate than sparks, but it's still only done with people you trust unconditionally.


	19. Changing Tides

Tangled Destiny

Ch. 19: Changing Tides

* * *

><p>…<p>

He stayed with Starscream until he slipped back offline. His frame needed the time to heal and grow accustomed to the strain of being online again, though even that reprieve couldn't completely stop the tumulus roll of emotions in the Seeker's spark. Skyfire stood guard as he slept, doing what little he could to calm the worst spikes. Some things couldn't be just soothed away, no matter how much easier that might be.

They continued sharing memories when Starscream was conscious. Starscream had missed so much during his megavorns of stasis, more than Skyfire could ever show him, but he was determined to give Starscream back as much as he could. Even with the war, not all of it was bad.

He showed Starscream his trinemates: the way they'd changed and grown over the vorns and how the war had affected them. Many of the changes were subtle things: a sharper sense of humor, dark moods and pensive silences after bad battles, a well-earned distrust of strangers, the pride they'd taken in their rise through the ranks. They were still the same people, but war had sharpened their hard edges and worn away at any lingering softness. They'd become soldiers. Starscream watched their slow transformation with a mix of trepidation and pride.

At some point, Starscream nudged at him to show parts of himself as well, and Skyfire couldn't deny him. So he let Starscream see the peace he'd found in repairing mecha of non-lethal damage, and the grim satisfaction he'd taken in pulling mecha back from the brink of deactivation. His reluctant acquiescence to being armed and learning how to fight as well as his relief that he hadn't yet needed to use that training on another Cybertronian.

He would have given Starscream only the good memories, but the Seeker wouldn't let him avoid all the darker moments. So many memories were somehow tainted by the war. Lingering battle damage would mar an otherwise peaceful moment, or memories of the Seeker's accomplishments would be tied together with the battles that had led to them. Starscream didn't always notice the subtle marks of the war, but when he did he'd focus on them, tugging the memory in a darker direction. Sometimes Skyfire could distract him again, but other times the Seeker insisted on seeing the memory through.

The battlefields. Lost patients. The constant, familiar fear every time Skywarp and Thundercracker flew out to another battle. Having to watch the destruction the constant fighting caused to Cybertron. The slow deterioration of their homeworld was the hardest, particularly when it came to places they'd known. The Praxian crystal gardens, which they'd only seen once but had been breathtakingly beautiful nonetheless. _Vos_.

The clips of Vos's fall had been some of the hardest. Not as bad as Iacon, but worse than the other memories. The city hadn't been their home, but it had belonged to Skywarp and Thundercracker. And it had been _beautiful. _It had been a city built for Seekers and other flightframes, unlike any other place on Cybertron. The towering spires had stretched higher and thinner than any other city, marking out flight lanes and humming with the lives of millions of Seekers. And the Council had ordered it crashing down. Starscream had watched the few clips Skyfire had in stony silence, but he hadn't been able to completely hide his pain from the bond.

The memory shares inevitably ended as Starscream's frame started to slow and his mind quieted in a slow slide into unconsciousness. The extra time offline was helping though, and Starscream slowly started spending longer periods of time online. At some point, Starscream tugged the second berth flush against his own so they could comfortably lie side by side. Even in recharge, Starscream sought out the physical contact, pressing against him and clutching at his plating as if he were the last real thing left in the universe.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Skyfire was yanked out of a light doze when Starscream suddenly jerked hard enough to slam his plating against the wall behind him with a loud crash and yelp of pain.

"_Slag!" _Starscream cried out, hands going to his helm with a pained grimace. His wings fluttered erratically, beating a rattling pattern against the wall behind him. Starscream didn't even seem to notice, though his wings had to be aching fiercely from the contact. Instead, he curled inwards around his spark even as his hands cradled his helm.

Skyfire shot up in alarm, and his hands flashed out to steady him. "Starscream?" he asked in concern, but the Seeker shook his head mutely, hands still clutching his helm.

Cautiously, Skyfire reached across the bond to try to feel what was wrong, trying not to cause any more strain with his presence. He flinched away when he felt the first intense pulses of emotion batting against his spark before gently pressing forward again.

Something didn't feel right. Even more than the unprompted, painful flare of emotion, something felt different. It only took a moment of searching to figure out why: all the strongest emotions he was feeling-the panic, disbelief, desperation-wasn't coming from Starscream. Starscream was still _there, _caught in the middle, but he wasn't the only one present. There was only one reason for that.

The trinebond had finally reconnected.

Skyfire backed off, unwilling to intrude, though he stayed wrapped loosely against Starscream's spark, supporting him as best he could. Guilt rose in his spark, though he kept it out of the bond; this was his fault. _He'd_ caused all the panic and pain by not finding a safe way to tell the two Seekers about Starscream. He still couldn't think of a way to inform the Seekers without putting Starscream in danger, but… _slaggit,_ there should have been some way to avoid this.

The first few kliks were the worst. The trinebond had to be as weak and damaged as his own partner bond had been in the beginning, but the two Seekers had wrenched it wide open at the first hint of Starscream's spark at the other end. They scrambled for the confirmation that, yes, this was their long-dead trinemate and, no, it wasn't some trick. He couldn't blame them for that.

Skyfire gently stroked Starscream's wings, trying to calm their erratic spasms. He didn't even merit an iota of interest from the Seekers. All he could do was watch and wait for them to calm down, doing what little he could to help Starscream. Despite his worry, he couldn't help but feel some curiosity.

So that was what the Skywarp and Thundercracker felt like.

He'd gotten brief hints of the other's sparks back before the war, when Starscream had connected the four of them together, but it had never been enough to get more than a vague impression of their personalities. Now, though, the three Seekers were only separated by a few hics, and the trinebond was opened as wide as possible. The feel of their sparks was still muted but discernible.

Below the still-frantic surface emotions, the first presence was steady. Deliberate. Deep currents of thought flowed just out of reach, and his spark-signature echoed with impressions of his core spark-traits. A consuming need to protect and a temper that burned slow but fierce. He was quiet nights flying among the stars and companionable silence after a storm. _Thundercracker._

Which meant the second one was Skywarp. His spark was wilder than his trinemate's. No less complex, but almost whimsical, with thoughts like quicksilver instead of steel. He was the rush of air across armor at the height of a steep dive and bright laughter in a quiet room. An irrepressible sense of humor that occasionally bordered on cruel, and a fierce joy in life. Even like this, he could feel how the three Seeker's sparks would mix, complementing each other and balancing out their more extreme traits the way a Trine was meant to.

It was almost a full breem before Starscream gained control of himself enough to speak semi-coherently. Finally, Starscream relaxed, the grimace of pain slowly fading from his features.

"Better?" Skyfire asked softly.

"Yeah." Starscream replied. "They calmed down." Then he turned his glare on him. "Skyfire…" he said deceptively softly. "Mind telling me why my Trinemates just _panicked _when they felt my presence in the bond?"

Skyfire winced at his tone and the crystal clear anger radiating from his spark. Starscream was _pissed_, and for good reason. The anger barely covered an intense worry for his trinemate's wellbeing, which was even worse than pure anger would have been. _Slag._

"Remember when I mentioned the war had brought everyone to this planet?" he asked. Starscream nodded impatiently, and Skyfire continued. "Well, there was a recent... _complication _in the war that separated us. Unfortunately, I have been… out of contact with your Trine since shortly before the revelation that you were still online. Up until now, they would have still believed you deactivated." He glanced up just in time to see Starscream's stricken face.

"You mean to tell me you let my _Trine _think tha- _ah._" Starscream cut himself off with a loud hiss of pain. His hands flew to his head again as the trinebond surged again, this time in a desperate worry instead of confusion.

It took another tense klik before Starscream was able to wrestle their fluctuating connection back under control. Then he turned burning optics back to him again, and the painful diversion hadn't dulled his anger at all. "Skyfire," he hissed furiously. "What slagging reason could you _possibly _have for not telling my Trine I'm not fragging _deactivated._"

His voice had risen into a furious shriek by the end of his outburst.

"It's- complicated," Skyfire tried, knowing the non-answer wouldn't calm the Seeker at all. "At the time, it was quite literally impossible for me to send a message to either of them."

Starscream's optics narrowed. "Explain, then," he hissed.

"Promise me you won't do anything rash?"

Starscream was not going to take the whole 'captured and imprisoned' situation well. He'd always hated the idea of being trapped in any way, let alone by a literal cage. He'd be lucky if the Seeker just started loudly cursing out the entire army, possibly to someone's face, instead of doing something really stupid. He wished he had more time to get Starscream used to the idea, but the Seeker was already growing impatient with the delay.

"Bear with me for a moment." He took a deep invent, trying to find the best words. "In the early days, both factions developed their own symbol. On the orn a mech enlisted, their mark was branded on his armor to show their faction." He tapped the center of his chest, where his own mark lay. "This is the mark of the Decepticons, the Rebellion. Purple for the Decepticons, red for the Autobots."

Starscream gave him a skeptical look, which was at least a step up from anger. Not much of one, considering the bond was still radiating his anger almost as strongly under his confusion, but he'd take it. After a moment, he seemed to realize something.

"The medic from before, Ratchet…His symbol was red. He's an Autobot?" he asked. Skyfire nodded, not at all surprised the Seeker had remembered such a minor detail. "But… he didn't act like a prisoner."

"He's not." Skyfire admitted.

Dead silence. Skyfire dared to glance up, and he winced at the sight. Starscream was gaping at him, optics bright and mouth open in disbelief.

When he didn't say anything, Skyfire shifted uncomfortably. "Due to my medical knowledge, I was rarely stationed in the field, but crashing on this planet complicated matters. I ended up being assigned to recover a native artifact several orns ago. The Autobots found out about our plans, and I was a bit… careless during the ensuing battle."

Starscream kept staring. Finally, he seemed to shake off his daze. "You're a prisoner of war," he said slowly, as if still trying to process the new data.

Skyfire winced. "Well, technically, I-"

"You're a slagging _prisoner _here!" he shouted. His optics blazed a deeper red as surprise turned to anger, and Starscream leapt to his feet, vaulting over Skyfire's legs to reach the floor. Apparently, he'd managed to recover from his shock, and he was taking it just as badly as Skyfire'd expected.

"Those _fraggers,_" he hissed furiously. "That's why we've been in this room the whole time and haven't seen any other mecha. It's a slagging _cell._ I bet they've even got some camera's around here, spying on us, and guards stationed outside!"

Skyfire's flinch was enough proof for him, and Starscream cursed loudly again, glaring suspiciously around the room. Skyfire reached across the bond and found determination swirling alongside his still-intense anger and indignation. Faintly, he could still feel Skywarp and Thundercracker's concern from the wide-open trinebond, but they were almost entirely eclipsed by Starscream's intense fury. Then Starscream turned and started marching towards the room's door.

"Starscream?" Skyfire called. There wasn't much damage the Seeker could do-he hoped-but he knew better than to underestimate the chaos Starscream could cause when he put his mind to it. Skyfire got to his feet.

Starscream didn't stop and continued making his way towards the locked door, thrusters clicking loudly and wings hiked up furiously on his back. He reached the door and growled when he found it locked before starting to inspect the hinges and edges of the metal.

"_Starscream!_" Skyfire said louder. He glanced worriedly around them, knowing the Autobots had to be watching. Undoubtedly, Starscream had just sent the Security Director into a tizzy. "What do you think you're doing!"

Starscream stopped just long enough to shoot a glare back at him. "What the frag does it look like I'm doing?" he said irritably. "I'm finding a way to break down this slagging door. I want _out_ of this room!"

No. Bad, _bad _idea. No way there wasn't an Autobot stationed right outside their door and already informed that Starscream was acting up. If Starscream was thinking a bit more clearly, he'd have figured that out for himself. Of course, Starscream never had been able to keep a clear processer when he got worked up. That trait had gotten them both into trouble more times than he could count.

Stepping forward, he grabbed ahold of Starscream's shoulder, physically pulling the Seeker away from the entrance. He put himself between Starscream and the door, nearly blocking the entire doorframe, as an added measure.

"That's not a good idea," he said.

Starscream stared back incredulously. "Not a good idea? It's either this or waiting around twiddling our thumbs for who knows how long. I can dismantle the door in a quarter breem if you stop blocking me, and-"

"_And_ there's an entire base of Autobots, including the Prime, waiting outside," Skyfire finished for him. "I've already tried running off without a real escape plan before finding you. Trust me, it isn't a good idea." Starscream's optics lit up in interest, and Skyfire groaned. "Don't ask."

A slow grin spread across Starscream's face. "You already tried to break out? I'm impressed." He waved him off, leaning to look around Skyfire at the door again. "Last time, you didn't have me to help you. Together, I'm sure that-"

Skyfire groaned. "_No, _Starscream. Just… no." But he could already tell that wasn't going to be enough to dissuade him. Unless he wanted Starscream to start plotting without him, he needed to offer a better reason. "It wouldn't matter anyway. Even if we did manage to make it out of the ship, I'm afraid I would be unable to return to the Decepticons."

_That _got his attention. "Why not?" Starscream asked. He actually stopped trying to get back to the door to listen to the answer.

"I made a deal with the Autobots," he admitted. "Megatron… doesn't tolerate traitors. No matter their reason." Which was an understatement. Megatron preferred offlining traitors personally in extremely painful, creative ways. Videos of the punishments would circulate through the ranks every so often as a reminder, which gave Starscream very, very good incentive not to encounter Megatron in the near future. Or ever again, preferably.

Starscream looked up at him in dawning comprehension, and a hint of guilt reached through the anger. "Was it because of me?" he asked softly.

Skyfire reached out, tracing the edge of one of Starscream's wings comfortingly. After a moment, Starscream started to relax, though his frame still remained tense.

"I made my own choices," Skyfire started, but Starscream cut him off.

"Which means yes," he interpreted.

Skyfire could only nod in response, though it made Starscream's guilt flare stronger. "I only found out you might be online when Ratchet had to perform a spark-scan on me," he explained, rubbing light circles on Starscream's wing. "Megatron had shown no interest in negotiating for my release, and I'd already learned that escaping was unlikely. I needed you back, so I made a choice I can't regret." He paused, bending down so that he was face to face with his bonded. "Don't blame yourself."

"But if I hadn't-"

"Doesn't matter," Skyfire interrupted. "It's worth everything just to have you online and back with me."

"You're still such a sap," Starscream muttered, but the insult didn't have any of its usual bite to it. He sighed, leaning forward so their plating brushed lightly together. "What exactly did you offer in exchange?"

Skyfire shrugged noncommittally, and the movement made their plating brush against each other again. "I've worked as an assistant medic for the Decepticon High Command for a while now. That gave me enough leverage to arrange for a visit to the Arctic and our safety."

Something about that sparked off an idea in Starscream's mind, and a thoughtful look settled over his face. "Have you given up the info yet?" he asked

Skyfire cautiously shook his head. He was glad to feel that most of the guilt had receded, but enough of it was still there, buried under the surface, for Skyfire to worry about what his bonded might try to do to make it up to him.

"No," he answered. "I couldn't trust that Ratchet was being truthful about your survival, so I refused to give up the leverage until you were found. Jazz, the Autobot head of SpecOps, allowed us some time to recover before he demanded the answers."

Starscream smiled, and Skyfire could almost see the gears turning in his processer as his idea gained traction. "Good. Then they've got nothing to hold against you yet. So long as you keep your mouth shut until we can find—or _make—_an opportunity to break free, you'll be fine."

Skyfire started shaking his head before Starscream had even finished. It wasn't such a bad solution, though it relied pretty heavily on the assumptions that the Autobots wouldn't turn to more unsavory methods of getting their info and that an opportunity to escape would eventually present itself. No, the biggest problem was that it meant going back on the deal _he'd _suggested and agreed to. He wouldn't do that. If he hadn't been willing to give up the information, then he wouldn't have suggested bartering it for the Arctic search in the first place

"I gave my word that you're recovery would mean-"

"So break it," Starscream said flippantly, though he did frown worriedly for a moment. "They wouldn't hurt you or anything for the information, right? If torture was an option and your intel is as valuable as it sounds, then they wouldn't have put everything at risk by letting you fly around the Arctic instead."

"I… doubt they would, but that's not the _point__,_" Skyfire said. "I gave them my _word, _Starscream. I will not break it when they kept their side of the bargain."

Starscream looked up at him in surprise. "You mean you're still following that slag?" he asked, honestly surprised. Skyfire felt his mind brush his across the bond and willingly showed him his unshakably determination. The Seeker huffed in frustration at what he found.

"Skyfire…" he said slowly, as if explaining something to an exceptionally slow youngling. "You're a prisoner. In the middle of a _war. _Whatever promises you made—to the slagging _enemy_, might I add—don't matter."

Skyfire waited until Starscream was done before saying, "I've held onto my principles for this long. I will not throw them away now because it's inconvenient."

The brush through the bond came again, and Skyfire let it. He had nothing to hide, and no intention whatsoever of giving in. He could feel Starscream testing his resolve, searching for any weak spots, before he slumped in defeat and groaned theatrically.

"Glitch," he sighed, but a brief pulse of affection across the bond offset the insult.

This time, when Skyfire placed a hand on Starscream's back and started leading him back towards the berths, Starscream followed. He was amused to see Starscream glaring suspiciously at the ceiling, looking for any hidden cameras. Not that he would find any: Skyfire had already looked fruitlessly during the cycles Starscream had been recharging. Any monitoring devices had been very well concealed.

"It's not so bad," Skyfire tried. "Even before I spoke with Ratchet, I was treated better than I had any cause to expect. The Autobots won't abandon me to Megatron's revenge once they have their intel." He hoped. "Maybe my information will even be enough to tip the war in the Autobot's favor. No matter what, we'll find a way to make it work. Both of us."

Starscream snorted at his optimism, but he burrowed against his side nonetheless. They sat silently together, lost in their own thoughts and plating tightly pressed against each other. Starscream, never one to sit still, shifted forward within half a breem, breaking their silent reverie. Turning so that they were face to face, he brushed a hand over Skyfire's access port, asking for permission.

"C'mon. I want to see how badly you failed when you were first learning how to spar," he said with a slightly strained grin.

Skyfire nodded, and they lost themselves inside old memories once again.

* * *

><p>...<p>

Even the tenuous balance they'd managed to find couldn't last forever. It barely even lasted a few of the planet's solar cycles. Skyfire had finally let Starscream poke around with his medical knowledge and programs, and the Seeker was enjoying playing with the various sub-routes and coding he hadn't seen before. If it hadn't been integrated so completely into his processer, Skyfire was half-convinced Starscream would have started picking the strands of code apart to figure out exactly how they worked. Skywarp and Thundercracker were both faint hums in the back of Starscream's spark: dormant, for now, as their own obligations demanded their attention, but still tightly entwined with their trinemate.

The loud knock on the door surprised them both. Starscream jumped at the sound, and only Skyfire's quick reflexes kept the movement from jostling the cable connecting their systems. He hurriedly disconnected the link and folded the cable and data port away, optics locked on the door. The knock sounded again, which was… strange. Why didn't whoever it was just let themselves in? The warning was nice, but the room was still technically a cell; nobody would actually need his permission to enter.

Swinging his legs off the berth, Skyfire stood up and started making his way towards the door. He half expected the door to open and whoever was on the other side to come in before he reached it, but the only thing that happened was the knocking resuming. Skyfire hesitantly pressed down on the door's key pad and was almost surprised to find the door slid open at his touch. They must have unlocked the door before knocking. So, the Autobots might be locking them inside, but they wouldn't come barging in without permission. It was perhaps the oddest polite gesture he'd seen.

Looking at the open doorway, he was surprised to find grey doorwings and an expressive face staring up at him instead of the taller, blockier frame he'd expected. Bluestreak? Skyfire could only blink down at him. He hadn't seen the Praxian since… before his visit to Ratchet, and never without some energy bars separating them. Bluestreak grinned cheerfully at him, his hand still upraised and curled into a loose fist. He lowered it back down as soon as the door opened

"Skyfire!" he exclaimed, sounding honestly happy to see him. "How are you?"

He stayed in the hallway, not even trying to enter the room, and didn't seem bothered at all when Skyfire just stood there, lost for words. The Praxian just kept talking.

"I woulda come to visit you in the med-bay, but Ratchet wouldn't letcha have any visitors. Said it was a bad time, or something like that." He grinned wider, half bouncing in place with excitement. "I was so surprised to hear you had a bondmate! And a Seeker too! I haven't seen a real bonded pair in megavorns, at least that I know of. 'S not like anyone would really advertise it 'cause of the war, except for gestalts and they don't really count."

Bluestreak's gaze slid to the side, and he cocked his head curiously. "Is that him? 'Cause he doesn't look too happy, though I guess that makes sense considering everything that's going on."  
>Skyfire looked back to find Starscream perched on the edge of the berth, puffed up with his wings locked at harsh, angry angles and glaring furiously at the interloper. He looked about ready to attack the mech with a screech of righteous fury, and Skyfire hastened to calm him down. He sent Starscream a pulse of annoyance and a demand to stand down so strong it made him physically flinch back, but at least it managed to knock him out of the blind anger he'd been heading towards.<p>

Once that was—temporarily—settled, Skyfire turned back to Bluestreak, who was still regarding Starscream with inquisitive optics.

"It's time?" he asked.

Bluestreak quickly shook off his distraction. "Yep! Jazz sent me to bring you over to his office."  
>"Very well."<p>

Nerves fluttered in his spark, but they were offset by something that was almost relief. He'd known this was coming since he first felt the weak warmth of Starscream's spark confirming Ratchet's declaration. Now, it was finally time to uphold their agreement. Skyfire stepped forward to follow Bluestreak, and he was thoroughly unsurprised to find he immediately had a Seeker hovering at his elbow.

"I'm coming with you," Starscream ordered. His optics never left Bluestreak's frame, as if just glaring at the Praxian would stop him from doing anything untoward.

Well, slag. "No, you're not," Skyfire responded.

Starscream glared mutinously at him and took another step forward anyway. Skyfire sighed. He'd almost forgotten just how stubborn his bondmate could be once he put his mind to something, and now was really not the time to rediscover that trait. Putting his hands on Starscream's shoulders, he turned the Seeker so he had no choice but to look straight at him. His grip was kept gentle, loose enough that Starscream wouldn't feel trapped but tight enough to show him this was serious.

"Starscream, do you trust me?" he asked.

Starscream made a face, though he didn't try to close himself off. A good sign. "You slagging well know I do," he muttered quietly.

"Then _trust me._ I know what I'm doing."

"So what, you want me to just sit here and do _nothing _while you're off getting interrogated?"

"Yes," he said bluntly. "There's still too much I haven't been able to tell you. I can handle this on my own."

Starscream made a strangled sound, and for a moment Skyfire thought he was going to refuse again, or at least keep arguing. He was pleasantly surprised when Starscream didn't.

"_Fine,_" he conceded grudgingly. "But you better come back without a single scratch on you, or I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

_That _earned him a small grin, though he could tell Starscream was actually being serious. "As you wish."

Skyfire turned away again, and this time Starscream didn't try to follow. He stood completely still, watching as Skyfire took the few steps out of the room. Bluestreak stood aside to let him pass through the doorway. Skyfire maintained eye contact with Starscream until the door slid closed between them, closing them off from each other. The lock automatically clicked back into place. Immediately, Starscream's presence in the bond grew stronger, as if making up for the physical barrier between them.

A second Autobot was sitting in a chair that looked decidedly out of place in the hallway, just a few steps away from their room. Undoubtedly, that was where the Autobots took their guard shifts; it was surprisingly bare. Bluestreak waved at him as they passed and received a polite nod in return. Then they took a right into an area of the ship Skyfire didn't recognize, and Bluestreak started up his commentary again.

"You really freaked me out when you just collapsed like that," he said. "Ratchet got all quiet when he came in, and he only does that when things are really bad! Otherwise he usually just gets really angry and starts threatening to turn people into toasters and stuff like that, though he'd never actually go through with it."

From there, Bluestreak moved on to some old med-bay stories, and Skyfire was amazed at how creative Ratchet could be. Some of the things he'd done didn't seem possible, though Bluestreak swore they actually happened, and Skyfire had an inkling he'd found where some of the rumors about the medic had come from. Skyfire occasionally chimed in with a comment or anecdote of his own, but half of his attention remained on more pressing concerns.

Why had they sent the Praxian to bring him over? Why not Jazz or Ironhide again, both of whom could easily overpower him if he tried to change his mind. Bluestreak was a sharpshooter, not a frontliner, and he only reached up to Skyfire's chest; certainly not the first mech he'd have chosen to bring a prisoner to his first examination. Was it a show of trust? An attempt to make him relax by sending in the friendliest of the guards he'd had?

A soft whirl of machinery, almost lost beneath Bluestreak's chatter, caught his attention, and Skyfire glanced upwards. One of the cameras that dotted the hallways had shifted to follow their progression. So. Not as trusting as it first seemed. The familiarity of it was almost reassuring in its own way.

They finally stopped outside one of the doors deep inside the ship. Bluestreak tapped the number pad and stepped back, humming an old tune softly as he waited. They didn't have to wait long. Within a klik, the door slid open to reveal Jazz standing on the other side. Jazz greeted the Praxian with a warm smile  
>"Thanks, Blue. Mind waiting outside 'till we're done?" he asked casually.<p>

Bluestreak just nodded. "Sure, no problem!"

Bluestreak took his place, and Jazz stepped back, motioning for Skyfire to follow him. He did, and the door slid close behind him, locking with a quiet click. And Skyfire was left alone in the room with the Saboteur. Nothing changed, but the room somehow seemed smaller, almost claustrophobic. It put him on edge. With a silent apology to Starscream, he narrowed the bond: still open enough to easily sense Starscream's presence, but faint enough that most emotions wouldn't pass through. He needed to concentrate.

"Take a seat," Jazz said, gesturing at a large desk and assorted chairs that dominated the room. Jazz took his place on the other side of the desk, in a higher, more elaborate chair obviously meant for him.

Skyfire moved across from him. The seat was slightly too small, definitely not designed with a Shuttle in mind, but Skyfire sat down nonetheless. He shifted, more out of awkwardness than an attempt to get comfortable.

"Jus' one bit of unpleasantness ta get outta the way first," Jazz said. Reaching over, he picked up a small datapad and pushed it over to where Skyfire was sitting. "Just plug this in. Medical access port'll be best, an' it'll only take a klik."

Skyfire knew better than to ask what was on the datapad or why a datapad would merit a medical port instead of a regular one, though the questions nagged at him. He still obediently opened the medical access port and made the connection. Before he could even prod at the pad to see what it did, a program on the datapad released a small burst of energy as it activated. Skyfire stiffened as the program immediately unfurled, easily bypassing his firewalls and sending out tendrils into his core programming. Panicking, he tried to yank the pad out, but Jazz's hand on his wrist stopped him.

Then Skyfire realized what the code was doing. It wasn't attacking or trying to infiltrate anything truly sensitive. It wasn't even focusing on his own coding. Instead, the program had reached out to the foreign bits of code still buried in his processer, smoothly inserting itself alongside the restrictive coding. Nothing changed among the code, at least that he noticed. Instead, the program seemed to be just ghosting along the restrictive coding. Checking it. Skyfire didn't quite relax, but he stopped thinking about fighting it once he realized that. Ratchet had warned him they'd be checking for any signs of interference in the foreign code, though Skyfire certainly hadn't expected it now or like this.

He shuddered when the program finally finished and packaged itself neatly back into the datapad. This time, when he moved to disconnect the pad, Jazz didn't stop him. Instead, he swiped the datapad as soon as the connection broke.

"Figured ya'd prefer the datapad ta one of us rootin' round in yer head," Jazz said, scrolling through the datapad. "I woulda warned ya, but that kinda defeats the purpose of the whole check."

He kept glancing through the datapad for a few more moments before setting it aside. Apparently, Skyfire had passed. Jazz interlocked his fingers under his chin, and any remaining sympathy in his features drained away.

"Now," he said, visor dark and icy. "Let's really get started."

Gone was any hint of the cheerful, easygoing mech he'd spoken with before. No, this time Jazz was pure professional, every inch the Third in Command of an entire army and Head of SpecOps, with all that entailed. He wasn't outright threatening, but the potential was there. Jazz was undoubtedly one of the most dangerous mecha he had ever—or would ever—meet, and this time he wasn't hiding it.

Skyfire shivered—just a single, light twitch of his plating—but Jazz's visor followed the movement. He smiled—a small, cold thing more predatory than comforting.

…Skyfire was really, really glad he'd decided against trying to trick Jazz. He was _not_ that good of a liar. He would have failed. Miserably. And then Jazz would have found a way to drag the truth out of him anyway. Skyfire didn't have anything to hide—aside from his connection to the Command Trine, which he dearly hoped wouldn't even come up—and he was still feeling the pressure.

Steeling himself, Skyfire met Jazz's visor head-on, doing his best to hide his nerves. His voice barely even wavered when he spoke.

"What do you want to know?"

* * *

><p>…<p>

When Jazz finally finished with him, Skyfire was exhausted. Even though he'd done nothing more than talk, he felt wrung out, as if he'd given up parts of himself with the knowledge. Jazz had spent the first few breems grilling him about the different access codes he knew, which weren't many. He knew the basic entry codes for the base and the med-bay, along with several for the med-bay's security and data storage systems. Chances were the codes would have already been changes after his capture, but that was Jazz's concern now.

Then they'd gotten into the medical data. Jazz had wanted to know _everything, _even the details Skyfire couldn't imagine being useful, and Skyfire had obliged. Frame schematics, inborn frametype limitations, Inbuilt weaponry specs… He hadn't lied when he'd said he'd had access to a lot of valuable intel. Then Jazz started nitpicking the details, from the level of encryption each patient file was under to the exact amount of charge a weapon required, and Skyfire had done his best to answer accurately.

The only info he'd withheld was about the Seekers. Sure, he'd given Jazz the basics when he asked, but only things he'd undoubtedly already known or were almost entirely harmless in battle. Anything truly dangerous-weak points, fragile joints, weaponry function and limitations—he'd kept to himself. A small thing, considering how the secrets he had given up would inevitably put them in danger anyway, but one of the only things he could do to protect Skywarp and Thundercracker. Jazz seemed to have noticed something off, but he hadn't pushed it. Hopefully, he'd just assumed his reluctance to talk about Seekers stemmed from worry about Starscream and nothing else. Besides, the mech had received plenty of other information to keep him happy.

Bluestreak was still waiting in the hall when he left the room, and together they started the trek back to his room. Bluestreak seemed to notice his discomfort. As they walked back, he kept up a constant, more subdued chatter, filling up the silence without really expecting him to say anything in return. He didn't seem to mind that Skyfire was only half paying attention. Soon enough, Skyfire found himself back in a familiar hallway. Bluestreak stopped him in front of his door.

"One more thing before you take a break," he said. "The Aerialbots have been asking about you and your bondmate. If you're up for it, Command agreed to allow a meeting—heavily guarded, of course, and Ratchet wants to see you first—between you guys later in the orn. It's your choice whether you accept, of course, but the younglings really miss having other flyers around "

Skyfire didn't miss the fact that they'd waited until after he'd officially started passing on information before offering up the option. Less chance of him trying anything and having both factions trying to deactivate him he supposed.

"Starscream would like that," he said anyway.

Bluestreak smiled. "I'll let them know then," he said. Then he input the door code and stepped aside.

Starscream was reclining on the berth when the door opened. He propped his head up at the sound, and his wings perked up when his optics found Skyfire's.

"You're back!" he called.

Starscream shot off the berth so fast he almost overbalanced. He skidded to a stop inches from Skyfire, and Skyfire reached over to steady him. Starscream didn't seem to notice the physical contact, instead throwing the bond wide open and engulfing him in his worry and relief.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking him over with unconcealed concern.

Skyfire shook his head. "I'm fine, just… tired."

He crossed the room in a few steps and settled down on the berth with a quiet groan. Starscream joined him, wingtips still flicking in concern. He leaned closer, and Skyfire felt a hand against his wing, stroking the tension away. His wings dipped down as he started to relax, but even that couldn't completely erase his worries. There was so much that could still go wrong. So many new problems that would come and keep coming until the war ended, one way or another. He couldn't keep Starscream hidden away from all of them, no matter how much he might want to.

Eventually, the Autobots would let them both out of their cage, and then there would be no stopping Starscream from exploring and interacting with the crew. Starscream might not have ever been a particularly trusting mech, but even he wouldn't be able to suspect just what the Autobots were capable of. Jazz, the friendly, easygoing mech until he needed to do his job, Bluestreak, the cheerful chatterbox who'd nonetheless racked up a staggering death tally, and who knew how many other mecha like them. The trigger-happy mecha wouldn't even be the most dangerous; Starscream knew how to deal with mecha that hated him. It was the mecha that seemed harmless or kind that the Seeker wouldn't know to be careful around. Skyfire reached out with both hand and spark, ensuring he had the Seeker's full attention.

"Be careful with them," he warned. "Even if they are good mecha—and I'm starting to think several of them actually are—never forget they're dangerous too. They survived. No matter how friendly or kind they might act, they're still hardened soldiers. They will hurt you if they think they have to."

Skyfire couldn't let that happen. No matter what. He didn't let Starscream go until he felt the Seeker's agreement, and even then he kept one hand flush against Starscream's plating, for reassurance more than anything. Starscream didn't pull away—he needed the physical contact just as much—but he seemed distracted. Even his spark was almost distant as his processer worked away. Starscream didn't even seem to like where his thoughts were heading; instead of calming down, his frame had only grown tenser.

Finally, without meeting Skyfire's optics, Starscream quietly asked, "Does that mean you're dangerous too?"

"I…" Skyfire started, but he stopped when he realized he didn't know what to say.

Was he dangerous?

It had never been a word he'd associated with himself, but now? His skillset and connection to Thundercracker and Skywarp had shielded him from the worst of the war, but he'd still needed to adapt to their new reality. He hadn't killed, but he'd become very well acquainted with death. If someone came at him or Starscream… he'd be able to fight. To kill, if necessary, no matter how much he might hate himself afterwards. He wouldn't have been able to do that before the war.

"I don't know. I think I might be," he answered hesitantly. He might still be weak compared to the frontliners and soldiers who'd managed to survive constantly being in the line of fire, but compared to the average scientist or mech from before the war? To whom he used to be? He could be considered very dangerous indeed.

At first, Starscream didn't seem to react. His spark stayed closed off, and Skyfire didn't try to push. He wasn't sure what to do.

"You've changed," Starscream said softly. He shook his head, fist balled in a kind of helpless anger. "You're my _bondmate. _You're not supposed to change without me right there beside you. You lived through a _war_ without me, and I still can't do a single slagging thing to help you."

"That's not true. You managed to survive. Even when all the medics and knowledge I had said you should have deactivated, you still survived." He vented harshly. "Yes, you should have been with me. If the world was fair, I'd have managed to find you or we'd both have made it out of the storm, and we'd have gone through the war together. But it isn't, and we can only find a way to live with it."

This time, when he reached out for Starscream, the Seeker opened himself to him. Starscream was a mess of anger and guilt and worry, and Skyfire let him feel his own fear and uncertainty and, above all, his intense relief at being together again and determination that they'd find a way through whatever else they faced. He tried to show Starscream without words that not everything had changed. He was still the same mech, no matter what he'd lost and gained during the war.

_Look,_ he tried to say. _My spark, at least, is still the same. _

Starscream didn't move, but he seemed to understand. He reached back, pulling them closer together until their emotions mixed together and their sparks pulsed in sync. There they stayed until the worst of the fear and worry was slowly washed away.


	20. Momentum

Tangled Destiny

Ch 20: Momentum

...

Starscream was getting restless.

He didn't say anything, but Skyfire knew him too well. It was in the subtle things: the way his wings never stopped flicking back and forth, how he was slightly more irritable than normal, or how nothing seemed to hold his attention for very long anymore. The memory sharing helped, but even that distraction couldn't work forever. Starscream wasn't used to being stuck in one place, without even a schematic or some spare bits of scrap to occupy his time with.

Not long after Starscream started pacing the room, mumbling quietly to himself, a knock sounded through the room. Both of their heads immediately shot towards the closed door. Skyfire stood up to answer it, and this time he didn't protest when Starscream joined him. Once again, the door remained closed as they approached, and it slid open at Skyfire's touch.

He involuntarily stiffened at the sight of Jazz standing outside the doorway. The mech was loitering casually in the hallway, visor a deep, relaxed blue, and had a slight smile on his face. None of the coldness from the last time he'd seen Jazz was present, though that did little to reassure him; Jazz was a good actor, and he wouldn't have come here without some sort of motive. Starscream, immediately catching on to his unease, eyed Jazz suspiciously and shifted ever-so-slightly closer to Skyfire's side. Jazz returned the stare with a slight tilt of his visor, and Skyfire had to resist the urge to stand in front of Starscream, shielding him from Jazz's sight. It wouldn't have accomplished anything anyway.

"Hey Skyfire, Starscream," Jazz said, giving them both a nod. "C'n I come in? I figured it was 'bout time we had a talk. There's some things we've gotta sort out fer the future."

Skyfire nodded back and reluctantly stepped aside, gesturing for Jazz to come in. He didn't like it-letting Jazz into the one room he'd come to think of as his own, having him so close to Starscream, even just seeing the mech again after last time-but Jazz held too much clout for Skyfire to deny him.

When Jazz had passed them, Skyfire leaned down closer to Starscream's head and whispered, "This is Jazz, the Autobot's Second in Command and leader of their Special Operations division."

Realization hit the Seeker, though only a slight stiffening in his wings betrayed it. "The mech in charge of us?" he asked quietly, barely loud enough for Skyfire to make out. "The one you met with earlier?"

Skyfire nodded, and Starscream's expression darkened. Brushing a hand against the Seeker's back, Skyfire sent him a pulse of caution, which Starscream grumbled at but accepted.

Jazz pulled one of the chairs half-abandoned in a corner towards the center of the room. He sat down first, plunking himself down casually in his chair, and motioned them over. Starscream pulled over the last remaining chair, and Skyfire seated himself on the edge of one of the berths. The chairs were a larger edition, especially for the generally smaller Autobots, but they were still slightly too narrow for comfort. Meanwhile, Jazz was watching them both. It was the first time he'd come face to face with Starscream, and the way his optics kept sliding towards the Seeker put Skyfire's processer on edge. Jazz seemed to notice and, with a disarming smile, settled his gaze on Skyfire instead.

"The way I see it, ya have two real options ya need ta start thinkin' 'bout," Jazz started. "If ya want, once ya've finished with yer side a the deal, ya can just let things go back to the way things were. Go back ta bein' just 'nother prisoner. We won't push ya past that." He sighed, leaning backwards slightly. "A course, that'll come with its own set a complications now. We'll do what we can ta keep yer name outta the picture, but chances are it won't last forever. Ya already gave us some good intel, an' it won't be long 'for the 'Cons notice an' start asking questions."

Starscream was the first to reply. "What will you do if they do find out?" he asked, optics flicking over to Skyfire.

Jazz shrugged. "Protect ya. As much as possible, anyway. We're not gonna abandon ya, either of ya, at this point if it looks like Megs is out fer revenge. We wouldn't be able to do as much so long as he has the brand, but we'd do what we could ta offset any backlash."

Pretty words, but Skyfire knew how little they'd actually be able to do for a member of the other faction. And that was assuming they bothered putting in the effort at all after he outlived his usefulness, which was always a risk.

"And the second option?" Skyfire asked.

"Ya officially remove the brand," Jazz said, face uncharacteristically serious. "We can do a lot more for a Neutral, even an ex-Con, than we could fer a branded Decepticon."

Skyfire's hand twitched as he stopped himself from reaching up to touch the purple sigil centered on his chest. The mark had been part of him for so long, a visible symbol of his choices and everything he'd gone through over the vorns. He'd already resigned himself to the fact that he would most likely never return to the Decepticons as a free mech, but it still seemed wrong to just erase his connection to the faction.

When he spoke, his words were barely more than a whisper. "Like what?"

"Well, ya won't be stuck in this room, fer one. 'S not like ya'd get free run a the base, but ya'd be able to walk around an' visit a couple different parts a the ship at least. Interact with other mecha again. Maybe even go outside fer a bit. An' protection wise, ya'd be given all the benefits a Neutral. Meaning if Megatron comes 'round demandin' his soldier back, we don't have ta negotiate."

It was a surprisingly generous deal; Skyfire was immediately suspicious. "What would that cost me?" he asked. He didn't have anything else valuable to trade. He'd offered up his entire database of knowledge for Starscream; if they had any more questions, all they'd need to do was ask and he'd be honor-bound to answer. What else could they ask from him?

Jazz offered a small smile. "Mech, it wouldn't cost ya anythin' ta renounce the 'Cons. It would just make my job simpler ta be dealin' with two Neutrals 'stead of a prisoner an' his unbranded bondmate"

Unlikely that was his only motivation, but he at least hadn't started by asking for anything unreasonable. Skyfire glanced at his side, to where Starscream was listening intently. There was one more thing he needed to know, one last thing they could easily hold over his head.

"And how will that decision affect Starscream?"

Jazz just waved the question off. "For the most part? It won't. Whatever ya end up doin', Starscream's still technically a Neutral. That's not gonna change 'less he officially takes a brand, an' we're not gonna use him as a bargaining chip."

For a moment, Skyfire was tempted to outright refuse Jazz's suggestion. He was already technically a traitor for offering up tactical information. He didn't want to become a turncoat too. Didn't want the next time he saw Thundercracker and Skywarp to be with the sigil that had bound them together for megavorns wiped away.

"I would like some time to think," he forced himself to say instead.

Jazz, thankfully, backed off without trying to convince him. "Take all the time ya need. 'S not like there's a time limit."

With that, Jazz turned towards Starscream. "That being said, we've got another few things ta work out. Namely, what ya are and aren't allowed ta do. This ain't exactly a normal situation. Yer a Neutral, but one with a known, strong connection to the 'Cons and, at least fer now, a pretty powerful incentive ta try an' work against us. Meaning yer still gonna have to deal with some fairly strict restrictions no matter what."

He paused for a moment, letting that settle in. "First, an' most importantly, yer not gonna be able ta leave the ship," he started. "The only other place ya'd be able ta go is the 'Cons, an' even if ya didn't it wouldn't be long 'fore the 'Cons figure out there's an unprotected mech wanderin' 'round the solar system. Second, yer not allowed ta wander 'bout without a guard, an' some parts a the ship are jus' off-limits.

Skyfire could feel Starscream start to bristle at hearing the restrictions laid out in front of him, followed by a slight twinge of panic. He said, "I'm going to need to fly."

Jazz nodded. "I know. An' there we have a bit of a dilemma. We don't have many flight-capable bots stationed here, an' none of them are capable of catching up with a mature Seeker. Just lettin' ya loose ain't gonna happen, even with a flight-capable guard. So, if we can't catch up ta ya, then we need some way of slowin' ya down instead." Metal squeaked as Jazz leaned forwards in his chair. "Let me be blunt with ya," he said. "I'd like ta be able ta trust ya. Both of ya, but that just ain't possible yet. Part of my job is keepin' everyone safe; if I make a mistake or the wrong call, mecha die. Much as I wish it were otherwise, I still have ta consider ya both potential threats."

"What do you mean by 'slow me down?'" Starscream asked skeptically, already starting to rebel against the concept of anything that would take away his mastery of the skies.

Jazz, sensing Starscream's resistance, was quick to reassure him. "It wouldn't be anythin' invasive or painful. If everythin' goes smoothly, it wouldn't even affect yer flyin' at all. It's a small device, somethin' yer bondmate's familiar with, called an EMP pulser-"

Skyfire didn't even wait for Jazz to finish his sentence. "No," he ordered. There was no way he was allowing Ratchet to put anything in Starscream's processer.

Starscream glanced around, brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, what's an EMP pulser?" he asked.

Skyfire didn't break eye contact with Jazz when he answered. "It was created during the Golden Age for criminals. The device completely cuts off signals between the processer and frame, and it can be activated by anyone with the correct signal. They are not installing one in you."

Jazz raised his hands up in surrender."Hey, I'm not gonna force ya. Trust me, nobody here likes messing with processers, and we wouldn't do anything like that without yer agreement, not unless it's unavoidable." He lowered his hands, putting them flat against his knees. "Problem is? Refuse that fail-safe or somethin' similar, an' the amount of choices we can risk givin' ya shrinks down as well. Ya can refuse, a' course, and we'll do what we can ta find 'nother solution, but I can guarantee it won't work as well."

No matter how nicely Jazz was trying to put it, that sounded suspiciously like a threat. Because, no matter how Jazz dressed it up, he was still suggesting keeping a Seeker from the skies unless they complied. And that was downright profane.

"You-"

He didn't even notice he'd started to lean forward until Starscream's hand on his side pushed him back down. Starscream… didn't look as indignant as it should have been at the thought of letting someone else-anyone else-have control over his frame.

"Does it do any actual damage?" Starscream asked.

Jazz shook his head. "The pulser itself doesn't. It was designed to be a nonlethal, painless way ta subdue mecha. The only recorded problem is that, if it's seriously overused-say, several activations durin' a single cycle-it can cause minor system glitches. Not something ya'd have ta worry 'bout."

Starscream hummed thoughtfully. "How long would it be in?"

"Until we can trust you," Jazz said bluntly. "Me an' Red Alert would have the final say in that. It wouldn't happen fer a while, but it would eventually come out."

Starscream stared at Jazz in silence before giving a sharp nod. "Fine."

Skyfire glanced between them, stunned by the unexpected turn of events. "I-wait just a moment, that-"

Starscream cut him off with a sharp blatt of annoyance over the bond. Skyfire jolted in surprise-was Starscream really considering this?-but he reluctantly backed down in the face of Starscream's mulish determination. Arguing now, in front of Jazz, would only make his stubborn streak flare up; he'd have to wait until later if he wanted a chance.

Jazz glanced between them and, when there were no more protests forthcoming, continued. "I'll set up an appointment with Ratchet then. He's got some free time in 'bout a cycle if ya want ta get it done quick, or ya can wait 'nother few solar cycles if ya'd prefer."

"Let's just get it over with."

Jazz nodded. "I'll let Ratchet know then."

He leaned back in his chair, visibly pleased with how the conversation had gone. His frame seemed more relaxed now. "There's just one more thing ta go over 'fore I leave; somethin' a bit lighter ta end on. The Aerialbots." He turned to Starscream, giving the Seeker a grin that seemed genuine. "They've been nagging me somethin' fierce 'bout gettin' a chance ta talk ta ya, an' I don't see a reason ta deny 'em."

Starscream's face crinkled in confusion. "The... Aerialbots?" he asked, testing out the strange word.

The grin spread larger across Jazz's face. He knew he had Starscream hooked. "Yup. A young gestalt of flyers, not even a quarter vorn old fer all they try ta act like grown mecha. They were the ones in the Arctic with Skyfire when ya were recovered."

Starscream's optics brightened, and his wings gave a little flutter of surprised excitement. "Younglings? Actual younglings?" he asked, processer fully distracted from the less tasteful topic from earlier. Skyfire wasn't quite so affected, but he still felt his mood brighten at the feel of Starscream's joy.

Jazz nodded cheerfully. "Yup. Four Jets an' a Shuttle. They're Sigma-sparked from after we landed on Earth."

Starscream's gaze slid to the side, and the excited flickers of his wings paused. "I'm not going without Skyfire," he warned quietly.

Jazz shrugged, nonplussed. "Fair 'nough. The gestalt didn't have anythin' bad ta say 'bout him after they flew together. I doubt they'd protest ta havin' him there as well. I'll keep ya posted on them."

With that, Jazz stood up, looking them both over. "Well, unless ya have anythin' else ya wanna bring up, I'll leave ya to it."

After a moment of silence, he turned and ambled his way towards the door, humming a jaunty tune as he went. The door slid open at his touch and shut behind him, closing them off once again from the rest of the ship. Skyfire breathed a soft sigh of relief at that. At his side, Starscream was still caught up in the most recent revelation.

"I can't believe there's actual younglings here," Starscream mused quietly, mostly to himself.

Skyfire made a noncommittal sound of assent, more a grunt than anything. He knew how much the news of younglings, probably the only bit of good news he'd received since waking up, meant to Starscream, but there was something more important to worry about. Starscream seemed to notice his discontent, and he quickly snapped out of it, slightly sheepish at being so easily distracted.

"You know you don't have to let them add the pulser," Skyfire started. "We can figure out another way, one that doesn't involve letting them accessing your processer."

For a moment, Starscream said nothing. Then he quietly asked, "You have one too, don't you?"

Skyfire nodded. "It needed to be inserted before I could leave for the Arctic."

The confirmation prompted a pulse of displeasure from the Seeker even stronger than the suggestion of having one installed in his own frame had. He idly scratched at the metal chair under him, leaving thin gouges in the material that betrayed his irritation.

"Have they ever activated it?" he asked.

Skyfire could only shake his head, and Starscream relaxed.

"Then stop worrying." He smirked, and something suspiciously devious echoed in his spark. "Besides, I can handle this."

The way he said it sent up red flags in Skyfire's processer. This wasn't Starscream passively accepting something he found annoying; this was Starscream actively plotting to circumvent it. No wonder he hadn't put up a fight.

"Starscream..." he started, mind already whirring with the various things Starscream could be planning and the many ways it could all go catastrophically wrong.

Starscream just laughed, and no matter what Skyfire tried that was the last he was able to get out of him.

* * *

><p>…<p>

"Done," Ratchet declared, finally stepping away from Starscream's prone frame. "I'm bringing him out of stasis now."

Ratchet paused just long enough to send the deactivation command to the programs holding Starscream offline before finally unplugging himself from his medical access port. The medic then busied himself with cleaning up the surrounding area as they waited for Starscream to cycle back online. They hadn't let Skyfire see where exactly the device had been added; as soon as Ratchet had removed the interlocking plates of armor, he'd blocked off his workstation from sight until the placement of the device had been thoroughly concealed. Skyfire played along, though he disliked having Starscream out of sight and vulnerable. As soon as Ratchet motioned him forward, Skyfire was beside Starscream's berth, waiting for him to online.

Starscream's frame shuddered once as he regained access to motor control, and his optics flickered fitfully for a moment before settling on a pale shade of red that grew steadily darker as more systems onlined. He jerked violently upward as the final connections between his frame and processer slotted back into place, glancing blearily around the room. Skyfire brushed one hand gently down Starscream's arm, drawing his muddled gaze. Some of the haze cleared in recognition, and his movements started to even out into a more graceful rhythm.

"Feeling alright?" he asked quietly.

Starscream nodded, resetting his optics until they glowed a more natural shade of red. "I'm fine. Just a bit disoriented," he said. "Slag, I hate medical stasis; it always slows down my processer."

He shook out his frame, paying special attention to his wings and hands until the joints moved easily. Ratchet must have been keeping an optic on them, because as soon as Starscream was moving almost normally he was there again, wiping his hands clean with a spare rag.

"You're free to go," he said. "Mirage'll be walking you over. I'll ping him, let 'em know you're coming."

With that, he waved them both towards the door, already shambling away towards a different section of the med-bay. Then Starscream stood up and, after a moment's pause to steady himself, started tugging Skyfire towards the door. The door slid open for them, and they stepped into the hallway together.

On their right, Mirage was standing outside at perfect military attention. He tilted his head to regard them as the door opened and gave them a polite nod, which Skyfire self-consciously returned. The last-and only-time he'd come face to face with Mirage, it had been at gunpoint. What exactly did you say after that sort of thing? Mirage was watching him back, but his face didn't betray anything of what he might have been feeling.

Starscream was the first to step forward, immediately drawing both of their attentions to him instead.

"I haven't seen you before," he said. "I'm Starscream."

"Mirage," he returned without missing a beat. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance." He stepped gracefully away from the wall and down the hallway, motioning them forward. "If you'll follow me..."

Mirage set a brisk pace down the hall. Starscream fell into place beside him when Skyfire lagged behind, and it didn't take long for Mirage to break the silence.

"Are you acclimating well?" he asked Starscream politely.

Starscream gave a vague, non committal answer, which lead into a rather stilted conversation where both were trying overly hard not to insult the other. Skyfire was perfectly happy to stay completely out of it. Of course, Starscream eventually noticed his discomfort around Mirage. The Seeker sent him a question, but Skyfire just shook his head. If Starscream pushed it he'd explain later, but he'd really rather not let Starscream know the details of his misguided escape attempt. The Seeker would never let him live it down.

As they drew closer to their new destination, Starscream had an unusual bounce to his step. Most people wouldn't have noticed just how excited Starscream was, but, then again, most mecha didn't know how to read a Seeker's body language. Starscream knew how to compose his facial features, but no Seeker could completely keep his emotions out of his wings. He could feel how hard Starscream was trying to keep his wings still, but they were still flared upwards in anticipation and gave the occasional, involuntary flutter. Considering the almost tangible excitement drifting across the bond, Skyfire was impressed by how well the Seeker was able to appear calm.

Just before they arrived, Mirage pulled him aside. Starscream was left a few steps away, glancing over curiously, but when Skyfire didn't protest he stayed where he was. Something in the way Mirage held himself seemed distinctly uncomfortable.

"I regret the circumstances of our first meeting," he said stiffly. "It is my hope that the altercation won't negatively affect our interactions in the future."

Skyfire wasn't able to keep the surprise off his face. He recovered quickly though. "I understand. The situation was… less than ideal for a first impression."

Mirage gave him a small but-he hoped-sincere smile, and he stepped over to key the door open. It was one of the largest rooms Skyfire had seen so far; some sort of common area, he suspected, though it was almost entirely empty of mecha right then. The only occupants were a familiar gaggle of mecha clustered to the side, wings sticking out haphazardly. Five pairs of optics shot up to stare at them as soon as the door opened, and the room fell dead silent.

Then, with an exuberant shout, Fireflight leapt to his feet and lunged towards Starscream, nearly bowling Starscream over in an overexcited glomp. Starscream squawked in surprise and stumbled backwards from the momentum, but after a moment his face softened and his hand came up to hold the ecstatic youngling.

"You're here!" Fireflight shouted, frame practically vibrating in excitement. "I knew you'd come!"

SIlverbolt made a strangled sound and reached towards his gestaltmate in an aborted gesture to pull him back. Embarrassment colored his features, and he shot a small glare at the other Jet, which Fireflight completely ignored. The other younglings seemed to take that as their cue to crowd Starscream, voices overlapping one another and reaching out with inquisitive hands. After a moment of indecision, Silverbolt joined them as well, having apparently given up on restraining his team. They fit together, a nice clump of limbs and metal, and somehow no wings were jostled or plating dented as the gestalt surged around Starscream.

Skyfire smiled, and stayed away. He'd let the younglings have their moment. Besides, he enjoyed just watching Starscream with the young gestalt. Starscream was happy. It radiated through the bond in bright waves, and his features were light and carefree in a way they hadn't been since before the storm.

Eventually, Starscream managed to herd them into some semblance of order, and the overlapping cacophony of their voices quieted down into something more understandable, though they remained well within touching distance of the Seeker. They migrated over to one of the larger couches where, after a brief scuffle, Fireflight and Air Raid managed to take the seats right next to Starscream. The other three pulled more seats closer. Soon enough, Starscream's voice was the only one audible as he started telling a story. He started with an old tale from Vos during the Golden Age, something simple and beautiful. Even Mirage was unobtrusively listening in

At some point, Starscream trilled at them in Seekercant, and he got four multilayered chirps from the Jetlings in response, all of whom looked surprised by the automatic response. That lead to an impromptu lesson in the melodic, half-instinctual language of the Seekers, and he could feel how much Starscream enjoyed having the enraptured audience. As the only Shuttle frame in the group, Silverbolt only looked confused without the same coding guiding him, though he diligently tried to follow along anyway.

Something moved at the edge of his vision, and Skyfire looked over to find Jazz. He hadn't even heard the door open to let the mech in. Jazz was quietly watching the group of mecha in the center of the room, though he turned towards Skyfire almost as soon as he noticed his presence. He smiled disarmingly.

"Don't worry, 'm just stoppin' by ta make sure everythin's goin' smoothly," Jazz said, responding to his unasked question.

Having Jazz there, staring, still put him on edge. Starscream was vulnerable like this, with his walls down and face open. There had to be a thousand ways Jazz could use it against them, and Skyfire knew that, somewhere in the back of Jazz's processer, he was cataloguing every weakness and potential bit of leverage he could find, just in case he ever needed to use it. It was how mecha like that worked.

Jazz had to have noticed his unease, but he didn't say anything. He just kept watching the mecha in the center of the room. There was something almost soft about his face as he watched the younglings enjoying themselves. He didn't stay for long. After only a half breem or so, he moved to slip back outside as smoothly as he'd entered. Just before leaving, Jazz paused right beside Skyfire, barely a hands width away.

"Hey. I said I'd leave Starscream out of all this, an' I meant it. No matter what comes up. Ya got nothin' ta worry 'bout from me."

He left without giving Skyfire a chance to respond, leaving Skyfire to watch his back as he sauntered into the hall. Skyfire turned back to Starscream and the younglings after the door closed behind him, but even that charming sight wasn't enough to entirely distract him anymore. Something about the way he'd been staring at the group, at Starscream, put him on edge.

Jazz was an intelligent mech. An insightful, dangerous mech. If anyone were to figure out something didn't quite fit, it would be him. There was a thousand and one ways a mech like Jazz might catch onto a sign that they were concealing something. If he did… well, Skyfire would have to hope that promise held up when the mech in question wasn't just some nameless Neutral but the trinemate of the Air Commander himself.

...

Of course, the meeting with the Aerialbots couldn't last forever. Eventually, duty called, and the younglings were rounded up and ushered away after a brief but heartfelt goodbye. A small, almost soft smile lingered on Starscream's face the entire walk back to their room. However, almost as soon as the door slid closed though, the remaining joy lingering in Starscream's spark faded away, leaving a pensive uncertainty in its place. Skyfire didn't miss the considering look the Seeker shot him either.

"Starscream?" he asked in concern. He couldn't think of anything in particular that would have set him off, especially not after how well seeing the Aerialbots had gone. Starscream hadn't even noticed Jazz brief appearance, so it couldn't have been that either.

Turning away, Starscream moved towards the berth with a flick of his wings ordering Skyfire to follow. He did, though only after the Seeker rebuffed his questioning probe for answers over the bond. Starscream settled down on the far side of the joined berths arranged his wings comfortably around him. He fixed Skyfire with an expectant stare until the Shuttle joined him.

"I need to show you something," Starscream said quietly

Then Starscream widened the bond, taking control of the connection. After a moments pause, Skyfire followed his lead, focusing wherever the Seeker guided his attention. Starscream's unease was more pronounced like this, making Skyfire's own concern shoot up in response. What would have worried him like this and-more importantly-how would this help him understand? Starscream's spark felt entirely normal to him, just as strong and intense as he was used to.

Skyfire's confusion was met with exasperation, and Starscream tugged him deeper. Look, he seemed to say, and Skyfire realized he was being guided to where the Seeker's trinebond rested. The two presences stirred briefly as he brushed against them, first in a moment of surprise followed by relief and concern. He returned the greeting as much as he could through the secondhand connection, but something about the communication nagged at him. They were closer, he realized with a jolt. The connection was much too strong for them to still be near the ship; stronger than he could ever remember it being before. Which meant something was happening.

Was there going to be an attack? He'd been almost entirely cut off from news of the war since his capture; it was entirely possible Skywarp and Thundercracker were preparing for an offensive near the Ark. But no-the Seekers didn't feel like they were preparing for battle at all. They didn't have any of the dark anticipation or controlled nerves that would herald a battle. There was worry, yes, and a fierce determination, but the emotions were a slow, solid pulse in their sparks, not the heady rush from a fight or even the preparation for one. Which meant this wasn't something that had just happened; they'd probably been there for a while. It wasn't hard to figure out what they'd be after: the one thing that would have immediately drawn them towards the Ark.

Almost without Skyfire noticing, Starscream thumbed open both of their dataports and busied himself with connecting their systems. This time, Starscream kept the connection narrow, just the most basic brush of processers. It was enough to send words and data through, though it kept everything else separate. The result was an odd form of communication, where words were simply understood, closer to being seen than heard.

"How long?" Skyfire immediately asked.

"It's been a solar cycle since I noticed. They've been mostly in one place for about half of that."

Longer than he'd thought, which couldn't mean anything good. "Do you know what they're planning?" he asked.

Starscream's worry and frustration was enough of an answer for that, and Skyfire cursed. He really should have predicted this would happen. Could he honestly have believed that Skywarp and Thundercracker would have stayed at the ship after feeling Starscream again? Skywarp had been tempted to leave back when they'd it was only the recovery of Starscream's empty frame on the line. With the possibility of actually having Starscream back and their trine whole again? He couldn't think of anything that would have stopped them from following the bond to their trinemate.

Starscream had to have come to the same conclusion. He knew his trinemates better than Skyfire ever could, no matter how the war had affected them. Starscream's reaction said enough about how he felt about that outcome.

"Hey, Skyfire?" Starscream started, uncharacteristically hesitant. "I'm going to do something stupid. Thought you deserved to know, at least."

Something in Skyfire froze at that, and his spark surged in an instinctual denial. Because when Starscream admitted something was a bad idea, it usually meant it was going to be an absolute catastrophe.

Starscream winced at his reaction, and he was quick to explain himself. "If I don't do something first, they'll just end up doing something even worse. I can't let them get hurt."

He was barely able to hold back the thought of better them than you that wanted to form. He didn't really mean it, no matter how much better equipped they were to handle any problems than Starscream was. Even so, if they were left to their own devices, both he and Starscream knew what the other Seekers would end up doing. They would only be patient for so long before trying to force their way to their trinemate.

Skywarp and Thundercracker would have even more trouble trying to get into the Ark as Skyfire had had getting out, and he doubted the Autobots would be nearly as gentle in subduing them. Even Skywarp's Sigma ability wouldn't help him navigate the unfamiliar halls. Still, even that thought didn't make the prospect of letting Starscream put himself in danger any more attractive.

"You could try just asking the Autobots," he tried halfheartedly.

Starscream snorted softly into Skyfire's plating. "And tip them off? Besides, you heard Jazz: no flying off to random places. Do you honestly think they'd be any happier knowing I'm actually trying to find some Decepticons?"

He groaned as something that had been bothering him slipped into place. "Is that why you let them..."

He could feel Starscream's smirk at that. "I was always planning of finding a way to disable the pulser, of course."

Of course. No wonder Starscream had agreed so easily to the stipulation. Although, if he was going to be messing with it, there was something else he should know. "They've been checking my code every so often to make sure I haven't been tampering with it," Skyfire warned. "They probably won't look at you nearly as closely, but be careful about any changes you make."

He could actually feel Starscream ignoring his warning. Looking up, he grinned at Skyfire, a mix of mischief and pride that had gotten them in trouble so many times before. "Trust me. I can handle this."

The funny thing was, Starscream was probably telling the truth. In the first vorns he'd known the Seeker, he'd learned over and over again to never, ever underestimate what he could do if he was sufficiently motivated. In all honestly, Starscream was frighteningly intelligent. Easily distracted, emotional, and often irrational, but once he really set his mind to something he could accomplish almost anything. Coding might not have been his specialty, but their travels had meant he was very well acquainted with his own system and had a good foundation in the discipline. Skyfire had no doubt he could figure it out. Of course, that didn't mean he couldn't help.

Deepening the link once more, he guided Starscream towards the section of his processer that held his rather extensive knowledge of coding. He might not have ever dealt with EMP pulsers in particular before, but he knew enough to make some good guesses of how they functioned. At the very least, the knowledge would help Starscream avoid any triggers the Autobots had added to prevent tampering. Starscream immediately perked up, grateful and excited about the new knowledge.

Skyfire sent him one last thought before Starscream got too immersed. "Just be careful."

If the Autobots caught him meddling with their restrictions… The backlash wouldn't be too dangerous-being a Neutral had some advantages-but he'd lose whatever trust they'd managed to gain. He certainly wouldn't get a second chance. Starscream, already mostly enthralled, spared him a half-hearted acknowledgement and delved even deeper into Skyfire's memory banks. There he stayed, fanatically dissecting and assimilating the new skill.

Skyfire shifted one last time, moving just enough so that his frame shielded Starscream and any evidence of his plotting from the rest of the room. That, at least, he could do. Starscream didn't reach down to break the connection, so Skyfire didn't either. It was a reassuring pressure against his processer. He fell into recharge with the muted hum of Starscream's mind still working away in the back of his processer.

* * *

><p>...<p>

Time passed. They still spent most of their time in the room as they had, but now they occasionally had the chance to spend time in other parts of the ship. Without fail, Starscream met up with the Aerialbots once each solar cycle. The times varied, but eventually the call would come and they would be whisked off to the other room, where the younglings would be waiting. Starscream always came back from those gatherings with his spark bright and buzzing with happiness.

And whenever they had a free moment, Starscream's processer kept working. From the outside, nothing had changed. They still spent most of the time besides one another, often plugged in as if still sharing memories, but the physical link was just for show; Starscream kept him almost completely out of his processer, and Skyfire did his best not to even think about what Starscream was planning. The less he knew, the less Jazz could trick him into giving away.

Then, not three solar cycles after after Starscream's introduction to the Aerialbots, Skyfire felt a deep, unnatural shift in Starscream's spark, the start of something primal and unmistakable.

Sky-hunger.

It was still faint, not even strong enough to affect his thoughts or actions yet, but that wouldn't last for long. It never did. They had maybe an orn before it got dangerous, no more. Starscream felt it too. His frame completely stilled for a long moment before he let out a quiet oath.

"Slaggit, I thought I had more time," he muttered to himself

Then, without another word, he sat back down, shuttered his optics, and proceeded to completely ignore everything around him for the next two cycles. His processor worked furiously for those cycles, every iota of his mind dedicated relentlessly on his goal. He didn't even notice when Skyfire sat down beside him, nor when Skyfire rearranged his limbs into a more comfortable, less suspicious position. As Starscream worked, Skyfire just sat beside him, halfheartedly trying to follow along with what Starscream was doing but mostly just worrying.

Then, at the end of those two cycles, the calculating determination stopped and was replaced by an uneasy satisfaction as Starscream onlined his optics with a shaky exhale. His optics were immediately drawn to Skyfire, and he offered the Shuttle a wan smile. Even without words, Skyfire recognized the gesture for what it was. A warning, a declaration, even a half-apology in case something went wrong. At Skyfire's acknowledgment, Starscream offlined his optics again, fully concentrating on his processer once more.

The anxiety peaked for one brief, terrifying moment before slowly, hesitantly fading away. Then glee bubbled up in Starscream's spark alongside a fierce, proud sense of accomplishment, though the only sign Starscream let show was a smirk that disappeared almost as quickly as it formed.

"You haven't changed your mind?" he asked one last time.

Skyfire just shook his head, and Starscream nodded, not really having expected a different answer. Starscream stood up, shaking off the tension in his frame in one long motion, and started walking forward.

"Now?" Skyfire asked in surprise, chest tightening.

Starscream didn't dignify that with an answer, just kept walking. The keypad didn't open for him when he pressed it, but the door slid open, an Autobot on the other side, when Starscream knocked. The mech only needed one glance at the weak tremble already starting in Starscream's hands and wings, the slightly too-bright tinge of his optics to know what was happening.

"I'll contact Jazz," he promised. "He knows what to do."

He stepped back outside to make the call, but true to his word he was quickly back. Jazz wasn't with him, but it was obvious they'd talked and Jazz had relayed his instructions. This time, the mech spoke with more surety.

"The Aerialbots are free and excited about flying with you," he said. "But…. your bondmate has to stay behind while you're out of the Ark." He looked at Skyfire while he said it, clearly expecting an argument,

Skyfire just shook his head, not even standing up. "That's alright. I don't feel Sky-hunger nearly as quickly as Seekers do. I'll be fine for a while yet."

The Autobot visibly relaxed at that, obviously happy that he wouldn't need to try and forcibly separate a bonded pair. Everything happened quickly after that. Starscream was soon escorted away from the room, and after that his only connection to the Seeker was through the bond. Excitement and anxiety warred in equal measure on the walk over, and he knew when Starscream met the Aerialbots by the brief pulse of affection it prompted. Nothing could hide the rush of pure pleasure as Starscream lifted off into the air, and even his anxiety lessened for a moment in the overwhelming joy and the way his spark calmed down at being in the air again. It didn't last long-the worried anticipation wasn't that easily overwritten

Starscream didn't make his move immediately. The familiar happiness he always felt at being near the Aerialbots continued, and Skyfire could easily picture Starscream flying with the younglings, correcting their flight patterns and offering advice as they danced in the sky. It only took a moment for that to change. Determination flared brightly for one defining moment, and then Starscream's worry was lost in a heady rush of exhilaration and intense focus threaded by a thin twinge of guilt. Skyfire waited anxiously for any flash of pain or panic that would signal something going wrong, but it didn't come.

After another few kliks, Skyfire hesitantly started to relax. Starscream would have outdistanced the grounders within a few astroseconds. The Aerialbots would have been harder to lose, but there was a reason Starscream had been known for his skill in the air. The younglings didn't have the experience or strength to catch up, particularly if Starscream had been clever about when he made his break.

Eventually, even the exhilaration of pursuit died down to be replaced by a successful thrill. Skyfire could feel the shift as Starscream went from escaping to searching for his trinemates. The faint echo he had of Skywarp and Thundercracker flared as the two realized what was going on, and he could almost feel the way Starscream pushed his engines to fly even faster. There was no question of when the three found each other, not even a handful of breems after Starscream first broke free.

Something unclenched inside Skyfire's chest for the first time in solar cycles. It wouldn't be long before he got a visit and had to deal with the fallout, but for now he just smiled and let himself share in the three Seekers elation.

~.*.~


	21. A New Equilibrium

Tangled Destiny

Ch 21: A New Equilibrium

* * *

><p>…<p>

It was silent for longer than Skyfire expected. No alarms rang out. No angry guard pounded on his door. He listened carefully for any sign from outside, which was the only reason he heard the soft, muted sounds of someone approaching several kliks later. Skyfire reluctantly narrowed the bond as the sounds grew louder. He did it slowly so Starscream wouldn't notice, though at this point he doubted anything would have distracted the Seeker from his trinemates. By the time he stopped, Starscream's presence was just a pinprick against his spark, warm yet distant. Starscream didn't try to investigate the change, so Skyfire counted it as a success. Dragging one of the slightly too small chairs over to the center of the room, he sat down, watching the door nervously.

This time, there was no polite knock to announce their presence. Footsteps clamored directly outside his door before it slid open, and Jazz stormed in like a hurricane. Skyfire caught a quick glimpse of more mecha outside before the door closed, but he didn't have time to worry about them with Jazz stalking towards him. Jazz's face was cold and empty, completely blank of emotions. It somehow managed to be even more frightening than any fury could have been. Even standing, the Autobot was barely any taller than Skyfire, but he still managed to loom, making himself seem far larger and more dangerous than should have been possible with his frame.

"Where the _slag_ is he," Jazz demanded. His voice crackled like a whip, full of simmering anger and impatience.

"I don't know," Skyfire admitted. The words came out quieter than he'd intended, almost weak. It was not a good start.

He hated to admit it, but he cringed under the withering glare Jazz shot him at that answer.

"That was not a _request_," Jazz said, spitting the word out vehemently. "_Tell me where he is._"

Intimidating as Jazz was, Skyfire forced himself to stay calm and focused. He didn't have to answer Jazz. To protect Starscream, he would endure any punishment Jazz might think up. The thought helped him sit straight and keep his voice steady.

"Starscream didn't even know where he was going before he left. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't tell you his location," he said. It was, technically, the truth. Starscream hadn't had a clue of where he was going; he'd just followed the trinebond.

Jazz's visor darkened in annoyance, but he seemed to believe him. His voice was still harsh, though less obviously threatening, when he continued. "Then why did he leave?"

Skyfire shrugged. "He's a Seeker. They don't take being caged well." Another truth. Starscream would have balked under having to bow to the Autobot's authority no matter what, even if that alone wouldn't have driven him to leave.

Jazz said nothing. He just stood there, head tilted slightly and visor dark in though. Skyfire fidgeted under Jazz's heavy gaze, but he didn't say anything to break the silence. He wasn't about to volunteer information, if that was what Jazz was after. Of course, he was completely blindsided the next time Jazz spoke.

"Yer lying." Jazz stated matter of factly. "Do ya honestly expect me ta believe a mech, even a Seeker, would abandon his bondmate just ta avoid what little restrictions we'd put him under? Without even attemptin' ta free ya as well?"

Skyfire stiffened. And then he inwardly cursed as he realized that one, unconscious movement might as well have been a verbal confirmation to a mech like Jazz. Skyfire immediately tried to relax again and act like nothing was wrong, but he already knew it was too late. Slaggit, he wasn't cut out for this! He didn't know how to lie to a mech as experienced as Jazz, and he had no idea how to navigate the word games the Saboteur knew so well.

Skyfire tried to stall, putting on his best confused face. "What are you-"

Jazz cut him off. "Yer not a good liar," he said, shaking his head condescendingly. "An' yer not as sneaky as ya seem ta think ya are. Starscream didn't act like a mech with a broken trinebond. I mighta been a Polyhexian mech, but I know what Seekers are like. If he'd lost his trinemates, he wouldn't have been functionin' nearly as well. I'm sure ya know there's only one incomplete Trine on Earth. Did ya know they've been missin' fer the past couple a orns?"

"What?" Skyfire breathed. He'd known something was wrong, but… _missing_? They were undamaged-he'd felt that through Starscream, and it couldn't have changed that quickly-but… what had happened? What had they _done_?

Jazz just smiled. "Turns out the Command Trine hasn't been seen in the last couple a raids or in any of our, ah, _excursions_ 'round the flagship. There's also been some whisperings about Old Meg's bein' on the warpath. Seems to me all of that started 'bout the time we picked yer bondmate up from the ice." He paused. "I don't believe in coincidences."

He leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose, and all Skyfire could see was the bright, smug blue of Jazz's visor. "So tell me again. _What did your bondmate do?_"

Skyfire was struck speechless. His processer froze in horror, and he couldn't think of a single argument to refute what Jazz had discovered. Jazz _knew_. By the sound of it, he'd been suspicious for a while. To a mech of Jazz's rank, suspicioun and circumstantial evidence was as good as fact. Unless Skyfire could somehow offer irrefutable proof that Starscream wasn't connected to the Command Trine, Jazz wasn't going to back down. Mecha like him never did. So Skyfire could only try to mitigate the consequences. Better for Jazz to know the truth than to speculate that Starscream had left intending to join the Decepticons or sabotage the Autobots.

"They just wanted to see each other. Talk," Skyfire admitted, voice barely louder than a whisper. "His trinemates were as convinced of his deactivation as I was, and they didn't have the benefit of being there for his revival."

The skepticism on Jazz's face was obvious. "That's it? So why did he felt the need to hack the pulser_ he agreed to install_ and hightail it outta here? Those ain't the actions of a innocent mech."

True. The situation was rather… incriminating, even though Skyfire knew Starscream hadn't intended anything malicious. "What about a desperate one?" he tried. "Starscream wasn't willing to risk his trinemate's safety or a chance to speak with them. That didn't leave him many options."

Jazz was quiet for a long moment. Skyfire didn't know if that meant he was considering his point or thinking up a new angle of attack. Judging by the look in his visor, Skyfire would have guessed the latter. When Jazz's lips curled into a derisive smirk, Skyfire knew he was right.

"An' that doesn't bother ya at all? How… altruistic of ya," Jazz said, deceptively casually. "Seems like ya should be a mite more upset 'bout yer bondmate abandonin' ya to join the 'Cons with his trinemates."

Even knowing what Jazz was trying to do didn't offset the sting of that jab. Skyfire reacted before he could think. "Starscream is _not_ a Decepticon," he snapped, automatically defending his bonded. Starscream _hadn't _abandoned him and certainly not to join the other side of a war he had no stake in.

Completely unimpressed, Jazz snorted, crossing his arms "Ya sure 'bout that? He left ya here, alone, ta deal with the fallout so he could rendezvous with one a the highest ranked mecha in the entire army. That don't worry ya at all?"

Skyfire's fist clenched in response, and he almost shot back with what little evidence he had from the bond before catching himself at the last moment. Jazz was baiting him. He'd _let_ Jazz get to him. Frankly, it was downright embarrassing how close Jazz had come to succeeding in getting a hint, no matter how small, to Starscream's location.

Still, something in his expression must have given his certainty away, because Jazz's confrontational stance melted into something more contemplative. "Ya are, aren't ya," he mused. "So they're not just plannin' on takin' off fer the flagship right away. That's somethin', at least."

Jazz looked Skyfire over one last time before apparently dismissing him altogether. "Yer lucky I still got damage control ta do," he said, one last, rather ominous parting shot before turning away.

Then Jazz swept out of the room as dramatically as he'd entered. Skyfire was relieved to see the door close behind him. He stood up and was not surprised at all to find that his legs were trembling beneath him. Two steps later, he sank down on the berth, where he could rest his full weight against the wall without worrying about it collapsing beneath him. Skyfire was barely able to wait until his spark had calmed before widening the bond again. The Seekers' delight, now colored with a tinge of seriousness, flowed across the bond again, and Skyfire sagged downward in relief at the feel of their sparks. He brushed lightly against Starscream's spark just to feel Starscream's pulse back, distracted but strong. Skyfire stayed there, on the outskirts of their emotions, and tried to relax. Starscream was happy. He was safe with his trinemates there to protect him, and Skyfire knew they would never allow anything to harm Starscream while their sparks still pulsed.

It would have to be enough.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Skyfire was left completely isolated for the next few solar cycles. Intentionally or not, it was probably one of the best punishments the Autobots could have chosen. Skyfire was left constantly on edge, processor whirring with all the possible punishments the Autobots could choose. Despite it all, boredom started to set in after the first empty cycles, mixing sickeningly with the nervous anticipation. Not for the first time, Skyfire wished for his lab again or at least an old project to work on. Anything to keep his hands and processer busy.

Instead, he ended up spending much of that time trying to guess what the three Seekers were doing. The bond was still strong, which meant they hadn't left the general area, but every so often he could feel them flying around. After a while, he cautiously began to believe the three Seekers were alone. He would have recognized the telltale signs of a fight, and Starscream was never suspicious enough to have been introduced to someone new. Every so often he could sense them arguing rather intensely but, so far as he could tell, it was only within the Trine.

Skyfire almost wished he could have joined Starscream in his escape just so he could hear what was being said. He couldn't have kept Starscream from his trine-and wouldn't have even if it were possible-but he wanted to be there, able to hear what was being said and have some control over their decision. Instead, he could only hope that, whatever else happened, he wouldn't have to feel Starscream's spark heading towards the Nemesis. He didn't want his bondmate anywhere near Megatron, not when he was too far away to protect him. Maybe Starscream would be fine-he was intelligent and an exceptional flyer; useful, in other words. Then again, maybe Megatron would immediately throw him on a mission he wasn't prepared for. Or maybe Megatron would slag him over some imagined slight or punishment. Megatron had _hated_ Neutrals-had considered anyone who refused to fight the worst kind of coward. There was no telling what he would make of Starscream.

But Skyfire wasn't with them. Instead, he was stuck here, isolated and useless. So he sat, and he waited, and he hoped.

* * *

><p>….<p>

The first sign Skyfire had that something had changed was when Starscream's spark suddenly, intentionally _flared_. The strong pulse subsided as soon as Starscream had Skyfire's full attention, though the bond remained wide open. The first-and strongest-emotion Skyfire noticed was the bright pulses of excitement threaded with a heady sense of anticipation. Nervousness was present as well, and underlying it all was a sense of purpose that had been missing ever since his escape. Starscream had a _plan_. That could be a good or a very, very bad thing.

The three of them were flying-Skyfire could feel the way their sparks practically purred from being in the air-but that didn't tell him where they were going or why Starscream thought it was so important to let him know about it. Not for the first time, Skyfire cursed how thoroughly Ratchet had blocked off his communication systems. He only needed a moment to talk with the others and find out just what they were doing, because, for whatever reason, they were getting closer to him and thus the Ark.

It was near impossible to get a precise estimate of distance from the bond alone, but they were definitely getting closer. Factor in how quickly a Seeker could fly, even in root mode, and Skyfire was seriously starting to worry. At the very least, they had to be getting near the outskirts of the Autobot's regular patrols. And they didn't show any signs of stopping.

Skyfire sent sent Starscream a questioning probe, heavily mixed with his own worry and confusion, but Starscream's reply didn't help. It was such a jumble of emotions that Skyfire didn't understand anything except that, despite all reason, Starscream was barely even worried about flying back towards Autobot territory.

With a frustrated groan, Skyfire stood up and began pacing around the room. He had to turn every few steps to avoid the walls, and the room had never before seemed quite so confining. His wings prickled lightly; he wanted to find Starscream, and it really had been too long since he'd last flown or even seen outside, even if he didn't feel the true need yet.

Starscream's apprehension suddenly peaked, now tinged with veins of real fear, and Skyfire couldn't take it anymore. Abandoning his circuit around the room, Skyfire headed straight to the door. If Starscream couldn't tell him what had happened to frighten him in Autobot territory, then maybe he could find another mech who could.

He hesitated before his hand hit the metal. Did he really want to bring attention to this… whatever it was the Seekers were doing? Or would that only put them in more danger? He forced his processer to calm down and think it through.

If he was wrong-if the Autobots really didn't have any idea about the Seekers sneaking around their territory-he'd be putting the three of them in serious danger. Yet… They felt so close now; they had to be in range of the Autobot patrols, and he hadn't felt the brief flicker that meant Skywarp had used his Sigma ability to avoid someone. More than that, he had to trust that Skywarp and Thundercracker wouldn't bring Starscream along for anything dangerous, like snooping around the Ark.

He sent another tendril across the bond, but nothing had changed. The fear was, perhaps, slightly less pronounced, but it was still present. Starscream, sensing his probe, sent him a pulse of reassurance and tentative hope. It didn't help much; Skyfire could feel just how anxious Starscream still was.

With a low, frustrated hiss of breath, Skyfire brought his fist against the door, creating a loud, obvious clang. The Autobots had to know about the Trine's incursion into their territory, even if it was just from a security camera or a distant glimpse from a patrol. Surely just asking about it wouldn't put them in any more danger.

There was a long pause after that, long enough for Skyfire to knock on the door a second time. When even that didn't get a response, he started to get suspicious. He'd seen where his guards sat, and it wasn't that far away from the door. They would definitely be able to hear him. Maybe they needed to ask Jazz for permission to open the door now. So Skyfire waited impatiently beside the entrance, counting the astroseconds as they passed. The door still didn't open. Eventually, Skyfire had to admit it wasn't going to.

For several long moments, Skyfire continued blankly staring at the door. They'd trapped him inside. Those… those _slaggers_ weren't even going to give him the chance to ask or argue his case. He briefly entertained the thought that ignoring him was another part of his punishment, but he doubted it. Surely, if that were the case, they would have at least heard him out in case he said something useful. No, they had to have noticed something, and now they were intentionally keeping him out of the loop.

A growing ache in his hands alerted him to the fact that, completely without noticing, he'd clenched his hands into fists. He turned and, without pausing to think, slammed his fist into the door as hard as he could. Pain flared up his arm as the more fragile metal of his hand dented, but it was worth it for the loud, satisfying crack that reverberated through the room. As the echoes stopped, he was tempted to hit it again, but his better sense won out. The more uncontrolled he seemed, the less likely anyone would come.

The metal was cool against the plating of his hand where it still rested against the door. It felt soothing against the heated areas where his self-repair had already started to work, and Skyfire leaned forward, resting his head against the door as if that would help soothe his processer as well. Just a few inches of metal separated him from the rest of the ship. It might as well have been a megamile. So, with a low growl of frustration, Skyfire pushed away from the door and resumed his circuit around the room.

His frustration didn't go unnoticed by his bondmate. Starscream was reaching out in worry, and he could feel just how much his own anger was upsetting his bondmate. With that realization, he consciously tried to calm his spark. He wasn't very successful.

It wasn't long before he stopped being able to tell if Starscream was still getting closer; the Seeker was so close the bond was as strong and open as it was going to get. Skyfire groaned, and he had to stop himself from hitting something again. What the slag was going on out there? Had Starscream been recaptured? Had he surrendered? What about Skywarp and Thundercracker-were they still beside him, or had they split up?

He jerked to a stop at the sound of the door unlocking. It slid open quietly, revealing Bluestreak, blaster in hand, on the other side. The mech was shifting nervously from side to side as his optics scanned the room, though the hand holding his blaster never wavered. He twitched when Skyfire took a step forward, so Skyfire stopped moving.

"Tell me what's going on," Skyfire ordered.

Bluestreak met his gaze, looking uncomfortable but not intimidated. "I'm… not sure what I'm allowed to say yet. And it's really not worth disturbing Jazz over it right now. Just wait a couple kliks and you'll be able to see instead."

Despite what Bluestreak had intended, the statement was more ominous than reassuring. What, exactly, was he going to see? Impatience won out though, and he remained silent. Bluestreak stepped backwards, gesturing for Skyfire to follow, and Skyfire obeyed.

The next several kliks were filled with an awkward, stilted chatter as Bluestreak tried to fill the silence without revealing any information. Skyfire didn't catch a word of it. They were walking in a new direction this time, deeper into the ship than he'd been before. Bluestreak was moving quickly, and it wasn't long before they took a sharp turn down a new hall and stopped outside a locked door. The Praxian keyed in the code, and they entered.

Skyfire recognized the sight of holding cells. He'd certainly seen enough of them as a Decepticon to recognize the telltale signs of thicker walls and security cameras liberally dotting the ceiling. Undoubtedly one of the doors led to a true interrogation room and the rest to the more heavily secured holding cells, where important prisoners would be kept. The red Twin, Sideswipe, was standing outside one of the doors, leaning against the wall with a blaster hanging over his shoulder and a thoroughly bored expression on his face.

Sideswipe straightened up at their approach, but he didn't even try to hide his disinterest in the whole situation. His optics settled on Skyfire for only a moment before sliding away, obviously dismissing him. Skyfire might have been insulted if he'd bothered to spare any attention for the other mech. As it was, he was too preoccupied with his growing suspicion of exactly who was on the other side of that door.

"Hey, Blue," Sideswipe said, nodding at the Praxian. "Everything ready?"

Bluestreak nodded. "Yep. Jazz and Red Alert have already cleared it."

"Fair 'nough." Sideswipe turned and started fiddling with a complicated series of key pads and physical locks that barred the door, deactivating them one by one. After he removed the last one, he paused before opening the door and turned to address Skyfire for the first time.

"Knock if ya wanna get out. Not gonna guarantee we'll answer though," he said, obviously indifferent towards the situation and just repeating what he was required to say. "We've got cameras everywhere inside, so don't try anything stupid. No linking up either; if you're gonna say something, you say it out loud."

He didn't even wait for Skyfire's acknowledgement before opening the door and shoving Skyfire inside, sliding the door closed again immediately. Skyfire only managed to take a single step inside when something came barreling across the room and a very familiar Seeker half tackled him, sending Skyfire back a half-step. He didn't even need to see the familiar red and white to know who it was; the bond sang with joy at the physical contact,

Movement out of the corner of his vision sent his head shooting up again just in time to register a different pair of wings, and then Skyfire found himself with a second Seeker in his arms. This time, the force was enough to push him back into the wall with a loud clatter of metal on metal. Skyfire barely noticed the sound or the brief ache that accompanied it. He was too busy staring at the black and purple frame that had joined Starscream.

"Skywarp?" he gasped in surprise.

"Missed you," Skywarp mumbled, the words muffled against Skyfire's plating. Then he squeezed tighter.

Skyfire was struck speechless for several long moments, unable to do anything more than stare down at the two pairs of wings and hesitantly return their embrace. Skywarp didn't seem like he was going to be letting go any time soon, and Skyfire found he didn't mind the thought. He'd _missed_ the Seeker, even though it hadn't even been a dozen orns since they'd last seen each other.

"What are you doing here?" he asked when he'd recovered enough for a coherent conversation.

Skywarp groaned and tried to hide his head between Skyfire's plating and Starscream's wing. It took another moment-and a prod over the bond that even Skyfire could feel-for Skywarp to respond. "Long story. Really long. Let's at least get more comfortable first."

Ignoring the chairs bolted to the floor in the opposite end of the room, Skywarp tugged them over to an empty corner of the bare room. He stared at Skyfire expectantly until he sat, plating brushing the two walls. Starscream immediately claimed his spot on Skyfire's lap and leant against Skyfire's chest, where his helm was pressed close to his spark as if he could hear the quiet hum of life beneath the thick armor. Skywarp protested halfheartedly before settling against Skyfire's side, trapping Skyfire between him, the walls, and Starscream. Even then, when they were properly situated, Skywarp didn't say anything, and Skyfire realized the Seeker was waiting for him to make the first move.

"Where's Thundercracker?" Skyfire asked first. Surely, if both of his trinemates were here, the third Seeker couldn't be far away.

Skywarp made a face and glanced over towards the bare wall on their left. "Jazz is talking to him. Alone." He snorted. "As if we won't know what's going on in there anyway."

"Is he alright?"

Skywarp nodded. "He's not damaged. None of us were hurt."

A weight seemed to lift from Skyfire's shoulders. "Good. I was worried," he said. One of his hands was still cradling Starscream, but he shifted so that he could move his other arm up to stroke along the bottom of Skywarp's wing.

Skywarp pulled away from cuddling against Skyfire's side enough to give him an incredulous look. "_You_ were worried? Who's the one who's been a prisoner of the slagging Autobots for _orns_. Do you have _any_ idea how we felt when we realized you were gone after that explosion? We were worried you might have deactivated! We looked, but we couldn't find you anywhere. And then the Prime called to say he had you and wanted a trade, but Megatron just slagging offlined the vidscreen in his face."

He said Megatron's name with such venom that Skyfire visibly started. He looked down at Skywarp in surprise, but the Seeker met his gaze unrepentantly. How… unexpected. Sure, Skywarp's admiration for their Commander had cooled ever since the first time he slagged Thundercracker, but it'd never gone passed frustrated mutters about Megatron's temper. Why now? Megatron just refusing to negotiate for his return-nothing unexpected, really-wouldn't have caused such a dramatic change.

"What happened while I was gone?" Skyfire asked.

Skywarp grimaced and leaned back against Skyfire's side, where he nudged at Skyfire's arm until he took the hint and resumed stroking his wing. He shot a glance at a security camera ostentatiously hanging in the opposite corner before huffing and, apparently, deciding to ignore it.

"Things got worse after you were taken," he admitted quietly. "It wasn't too bad at first. Megatron's temper's been getting worse, but it hadn't been anything we couldn't handle. Mostly just a lot of ranting with some punching and the occasional beating. He was getting more paranoid too, always worried about people plotting against him and slag like that."

Skyfire wished he could have said he was surprised. It fit all too well with what he'd observed of Megatron's behavior, especially after their arrival on Earth. It went without saying that the two Seekers had occasionally been the victims of Megatron's foul temper. He wished he could have been there, though logically he knew he couldn't have made a difference.

Skywarp started toying along the thick plating of his side, tracing the thin seams of the interlocking plates absentmindedly as he spoke. "When we found out what'd happened, we tried to get you back. We weren't just gonna leave you there, no matter what Megatron decided. TC came up with this plan and went to Megatron trying to convince him to deal, but Megatron didn't listen. Then TC tried to push it, and Megatron slagged him up bad for disrespecting him. Worse than usual." He took a shaky breath, and his hand slid down to lay motionlessly on his lap. "It was bad enough the Constructicons had to get involved in repairing him, and he had to stay in the med-bay for a couple solar cycles. Worse than the other times, though he wasn't in danger of stasis lock at least. He'd just been released when Megatron decided it was time for a raid, and he didn't care that Thundercracker was still recovering. We didn't have a choice-he nearly slagged me up for arguing 'bout having TC stay behind, and TC wasn't gonna let that happen. So he agreed to come. Of course, TC couldn't fly right. He was hurting, and his replaced sensors were still uncalibrated. He tried to hide it but I could tell he was struggling."

Skywarp sounded so upset that Skyfire couldn't help but reach out and tug him closer, angling the Seeker so he could reach his wings better. Skywarp accepted the gesture with a quiet rumble, but it didn't distract him for long.

"That wasn't even the worst of it," he continued. "TC hadn't been invited to the strategy meeting for the mission at all, and Megatron apparently didn't see a problem in letting a _grounder_ have full control over what the air support would be doing. So, of course, we ended up with something slagging stupid, and it was too soon for TC to risk arguing with Megatron again. The mission was a spectacular failure. We were running around trying to hold a perimeter that didn't make sense, which meant Megatron was basically wasting half the mecha he'd brought on the raid." He took a deep breath. "Long story short, the Autobots came, we weren't prepared, and we got our afts handed to us. And then, of course, Megatron blamed Thundercracker for it."

Skywarp was tense under Skyfire's hand, plating clenched tight against his frame and wings rigid. On Skyfire's other side, Starscream stirred, reaching out to his trinemate with both frame and spark. He pulled Skywarp closer, shielding him from the rest of the room and stroking along his back and wings. Skywarp didn't relax, but he leaned into the soothing pressure nonetheless. He even reached up with his free arm to tug Starscream closer.

"Megatron was pissed as Pit about the failure, and of course he blamed us for not providing adequate support or warning," Skywarp continued. "Nevermind that we had nothing to do with the formations or the plan. Or that, if we had adjusted to something more reasonable, he'd just have slagged us up anyway for disobeying orders."

By the end, Skywarp's voice had started to rise until it was almost a shout. He cut himself off and took a deep, shuddering breath, visibly reining in his emotions. When he continued, his voice was calmer, but Skyfire could still clearly hear the anger bubbling under the surface.

"TC was already in bad shape from the battle. He'd torn some wields and gotten a nasty shot to the side, so he already should have been on his way back to the med-bay. Megatron didn't care. He just-" Skywarp broke off, shuddering. "He was in _stasis_ by the time Megatron stopped. Any longer, and he might have actually-"

Skywarp stopped there, swallowing hard and staring downward, away from them. His hands were clenched uselessly at his side.

"Skywarp..." Skyfire started, but he couldn't continue. He couldn't think of anything he could say to make this better.

Skywarp shook his head. "I shoulda jumped in soon as I realized Megatron was going to far," Skywarp admitted quietly, voice wavering. "I was _going_ to. But then TC ordered me not to, and I wasn't sure what to do. So I did nothing. I probably would have kept doing nothing until it was too late if Megatron had kept going. I could have been alone."

Skywarp said the word with a heartbreaking terror. To a Seeker, who was surrounded by kin and Trine for their entire life, being alone was the worst possible fate in a way no other frametype, save perhaps a gestalt, could understand. To be Trineless was to barely even be a Seeker anymore.

Starscream made a soft, mournful sound and curled around his trinemate as much as he could. Skyfire could sense how the two tangled together over the bond, offering and giving comfort. Skyfire continued stroking the two Seekers, but the motion was almost mechanical as he struggled to process the new revelation.

Thundercracker could have deactivated, and he wouldn't have even known until it was far too late.

He could all too easily picture what would have happened next. Skywarp would have followed his trinemate instead of having to deal with a second empty bond, assuming the backlash from being alone in his spark for the first time since his sparklinghood didn't deactivate him first. There was a reason so few Trineless had existed, even during the Golden Age when there was still kin and the interconnected network of Seekers to support them. Without the trinebonds to stabilize his spark, Starscream might not have survived his retrieval either. Skyfire was painfully grateful that hadn't happened-that he'd, against all reason, managed to regain all three of his Seekers instead of losing everything once again. He held the two Seekers, still curled around each other, closer.

Skywarp sighed and, still cradled between himself and Starscream, finished the story. "When we felt Starscream… we left. Thundercracker logged some slag about a training mission or something just in case, but we didn't stick around to ask permission. Less chance of getting slagged up that way." His voice hardened. "Let Megatron find a new scapegoat. I'm slagging _done_."

The anger and conviction Skywarp felt was obvious. He didn't regret what they'd done. Beneath that, though, was a deep pain and sense of betrayal. Skywarp had truly believed in the Decepticons in a way Skyfire never had. That enthusiasm had faded as the war stretched on, but he'd always been loyal. Until this.

"I'm glad you came," Skyfire said quietly, hoping to reassure the Seeker. "I wish the situation was different, but I'm glad you're here." He chuckled humorlessly. "What does it say that it's actually safer as here as a prisoner than as a high ranking officer back at the ship?"

It was an observation more than a real question, but Skywarp answered anyway. "That things are just as fragged up now as they were before the war."

There wasn't anything to say to that. It was unfortunately true. For all the promises and death and strife, nothing had truly improved since the Rebellion began. He didn't particularly want to think about it, so he changed the subject.

"What will you do now?"

Skywarp shrugged listlessly. "Dunno. Survive. TC has some tidbits he's willing to share for sanctuary if he has to, stuff 'bout plans for the next couple raids mostly. You know more about their standard policies than I do. What do you think will happen?"

Skyfire quieted as he gave the question his full concentration. Honestly, he still didn't know much about the Autobot's policies, but he wanted to give Skywarp his best guess nonetheless.

"Thundercracker's rank complicates matters, as will Megatron's reaction once news reaches him of your arrival," he started. "You do have good leverage though. That'll help. You should be able to stay out of a cell and have some freedom of movement at least. No matter what, you'll be treated well compared to being in the Decepticon brig. Although…" He glanced over at Starscream as he remembered a new complication. "Starscream did prove he could deactivate a fairly important safety measure. I'm not sure how they'll react to that."

He gave Starscream a pointed look, and Starscream smirked proudly-not quite the reaction he was looking for.

Skywarp sighed and slouched downward. "So, we really just need to wait and see what TC manages to negotiate for us. Slag. I've always hated waiting."

Skyfire sensed the spark of mischief a moment before Starscream spoke.

"That's because you have the attention span of a petrorabbit," he said, tapping Skywarp lightly on the helm.

"Oi!" Skywarp said, pretending to take offense. It wasn't much of a distraction, but it made Skywarp smile again. They squabbled goodnaturedly for a few kliks before slowly trickling to a stop. The silence that followed was lighter, though the undercurrents of tension couldn't completely disappear. Skywarp, of course, didn't let the silence last for long. Soon enough, he twisted in Skyfire's grip to stare up at him again.

"Tell me about what's happened since you were taken," he said.

Caught off guard by the non-sequitur, it took a moment for Skyfire to respond. "Most of it isn't very interesting." He'd spent most of the time since his capture as just a prisoner, staring at the same four walls.

"Tell me anyway."

This time, Skyfire was able to see just how anxious Skywarp was for a distraction. Skywarp was holding it together remarkably well, but he was still separated from his trinemate and trapped inside the enemy's flagship. Bringing up recent memories certainly couldn't have helped his emotional state either.

So Skyfire nodded. "Alright."

It took him a moment to figure out where to start, but eventually he began with some of his first moments after his capture and went from there. He'd leave some of it out. Skywarp didn't need to know how frightened he'd been at first, alone in the Autobot flagship, or the mindnumbing boredom that had often set in. Some of it, though, he thought Skywarp would enjoy. The Seeker would probably get a kick out of hearing about his first escape attempt, and he'd love to know more about the Aerialbots' antics.

Skywarp settled in to listen, and Starscream perked up curiously. Soon enough, the quiet rumble of his voice was the only sound in the room. Skywarp and Starscream were both warm, comforting weights against his plating, where he could feel the soft vibrations and heat of living systems. If he offlined his optics, he could almost pretend they were back in his old quarters, just sharing a normal conversation. They would find out what would happen to the four of them later. For now, he just wanted to enjoy having his bondmate and one of the few other mecha he cared about beside him.

~.*.~


	22. Settling In

Tangled Destiny

Ch 22: Settling In

…

* * *

><p>Skyfire was right. Skywarp did enjoy hearing about the Aerialbots. He perked up as soon as Skyfire mentioned them. Not as much as he should have-his wings still flicked restlessly and he didn't pepper them with nearly as many questions as he should have-but it was an improvement. Starscream chimed in with his own perspective every so often, pointing out small details like how Air Raid would squirm in barely concealed delight every time he received a compliment.<p>

He'd just finished telling them a short story involving Slingshot and a human pilot when the door slid open. All three of them snapped to attention, letting the sound of footsteps echo in the sudden silence. Skyfire breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a familiar pair of blue wings coming through the doorway. The emotion barely dimmed when he registered a less welcome black and white Autobot behind him, and he only spared Jazz a glance to ensure the Saboteur seemed relaxed.

Thundercracker looked exhausted. He put on a good facade of composure, but Skyfire knew him well enough to see through it. His wings were unnaturally stiff and high on his back, signifying his discomfort to anyone who knew to look. As he moved, the light caught on thin, almost invisible lines that crisscrossed his armor: weld marks. The sight made his hands curl into fists. The marks were old and well on their way to being healed, but Skyfire could see how deeply they'd cut into his frame. Some of the welds bisected major energon lines, and it chilled Skyfire to see the proof of just how close to deactivation Thundercracker had come.

Skywarp didn't even hesitate when he caught sight of his trinemate. "TC!" he shouted in surprise and pleasure. He flew to his feet, and for a moment Skyfire was convinced he was going to tackle Thundercracker in another exuberant hug. He jerked to a stop when he registered Jazz standing a step behind his trinemate, and his wings flared out aggressively. Thankfully, he didn't say anything, just glared at the other mech.

Starscream slid off his lap, and together they stood up more sedately than his trinemate. Thundercracker's optics followed them, and some of the tension left his wings as he inspected their frames without finding any signs of injury or neglect.

He turned towards Jazz. "May we have some privacy to speak?" Thundercracker asked quietly.

Jazz nodded. "Take as much time as ya need. We'll still be recordin' though. Standard procedure."

"That's acceptable."

With that, Jazz turned and left the room, sending a jaunty wave back at them. The locked door opened easily at his touch. The door hadn't even closed behind him before Skywarp dashed across the last few steps to embrace his trinemate. Some of the tension left his wings, and Thundercracker returned the embrace with a strained smile. He looked up, and his smile grew when his gaze landed on the other two of them again. In two quick steps, he walked up to them then pulled Skyfire down into a firm embrace.

"It's good to see you're alright," he said quietly. Then, with a sigh, he pulled away, stepping back a step so he could look all three of them in the optic.

Skywarp broke the silence first. "How'd it go?" he asked

Thundercracker didn't answer for a long moment. "We can make it work," he finally said. "They're offering a generous deal if we're being honest about wanting peace." A pause. "As the highest ranked Decepticons to have ever surrendered to them, the Autobots are rather… hesitant to take any risks with our presence," he said carefully. Then his voice firmed. "Jazz offered us two options. In the first, we'd essentially be prisoners. The Autobots would give us protection from the Decepticons and access to basic amenities, including adequate energon and restricted flight time. That offer is open so long as we don't attack anyone or sabotage anything."

Skywarp grunted and leaned back against the wall, unimpressed with the terms despite not having expected anything better. "So, they're essentially offering what we expected. It's not what I'd call generous though."

"That would be the second option," Thundercracker corrected with a wry smile, though it soon faded. "If we agree to their terms, they're offering to accept our defection from the Decepticons as legitimate and, essentially, treat us as Neutrals."

His proclamation was met with stunned silence. Even Starscream seemed to understand the gravity of the offer. Air Commander of the Decepticon army was, after all, about as far away from a Neutral as it was possible to get. After a moment, Skywarp took a step back and snorted in disbelief.

"No slagging way. They might be softsparked, but they're not stupid!" Skywarp scoffed. "Besides, what would being treated like Neutrals even mean? We haven't had any in ages, and Megatron would just deactivate them. Not exactly an ideal situation."

Thundercracker gave a-slightly morbid-chuckle of laughter. "The Autobots treated Neutrals rather differently," he said dryly. "Apparently, the Autobots gave Neutrals as much freedom as possible without compromising security. Instead of a holding cell, we'd get our own rooms, completely unmonitored, along with a limited ability to move around the base. We'd be allowed to fly within Autobot territory, within reason. Jazz also promised fair treatment with regards to any altercations with other Autobots."

Skywarp gave a low whistle. "Ok, I'll admit it. That's pretty generous. A bit too generous, actually. What's the catch?"

He'd been thinking the same thing. A prison cell was undesirable but acceptable—a reasonable thing for the Autobots to do. A normal room and relative freedom? Not slagging likely. He was completely unsurprised when Thundercracker grit his teeth and nodded.

"The catch isn't in what their offering but what they want in return," he said. "If they're gonna let us wander around the base, they want a guarantee we're not planning on abusing it." A pause. "They're requiring a complete processer scan before we're allowed out of a cell. Full access."

Shock rippled across the bond, and a powerful denial followed close behind. Most of it was from Starscream, but Skyfire could feel some of his own emotions leaking into the mix. No wonder the Autobots were offering so much if _that _was what it took to get it.

Full processer scans were far different from even the partial scans and coding restrictions Jazz and Ratchet had performed earlier. Those at least allowed you to keep most of your firewalls, protecting core coding and more private processer sections. Not so for full scans; with them, the invader had access to everything. Firewalls had to be almost completely removed, often through either hacking or medical removal. The scans had been an anathema before the war, reserved for either violent criminals or mecha with severe glitches. Of course, the war had changed that. Both sides had used it to get info from traitors or prisoners. Hacking, especially when it was so in-depth or carelessly done, could do serious damage. Skyfire had seen the unpleasant results when he'd worked in the prisoners' block before being stationed on the Nemesis. He hadn't heard nearly as many horror stories from the Autobot's side of the war, but that didn't mean it hadn't happened.

Skyfire had to take a deep breath, distancing himself from all the potential misuses of the scan his processer was stuck on, so he could think more clearly. Thundercracker hadn't said anything about hacking or manually removing their firewalls. And the technique did, technically, have medicinal or judicial uses as well, though, so far as he knew, they'd all but vanished during the war. One thing was certain-if Jazz was looking for a way to be absolutely certain they weren't on some secret plot to destroy the Autobots form the inside, then personally shifting through their memories and thought process was one way to do it.

Starscream took the proposal worse than the rest of them. As Skyfire was starting to calm down, Starscream was still fanning the flames of his rage higher.

"They can't do that," he said flatly. His optics were unnaturally bright and plating clenched tight in stress. His wings flared high and wide behind him. He looked about ready to attack something; the only thing stopping him was a lack of anything suitable to take his anger out on.

Skyfire reached over to soothe his bondmate, but Starscream didn't seem to notice the hand stroking his wing. It didn't help that his spark still radiated his own unease into the bond.

"Star-" Skyfire started, trying fruitlessly to think of something that would placate his bondmate at least enough for a rational conversation.

The bond only gave him a moment's notice before Starscream whirled around, flinging aside Skyfire's hand with fury written in every line of his body.

"No. Like slag I'm gonna let some stranger into my processer!" he shouted. He glanced around at them, expecting agreement, and his anger morphed into incredulity when he didn't find it. "You're actually considering this slag? What's wrong with you!"

Skywarp scuffed the ground and shrugged, unwilling to meet his optics. "It sucks slag, but it's not the worst thing they could've done."

It was, unfortunately, true. For one, they were being given a choice. He'd heard enough legends about Jazz to know that, had he decided to hack them for the scan instead, there would have been nothing they could do to stop him. The Autobots could have shut them down, hacked them for info, then tossed them into a cell or even an execution block-it was what Megatron would have done. Besides, at least the scan would be quick—a couple breems and it would be over.

Starscream sputtered, optics dancing from one person to another, before falling silent. Skyfire hoped he was taking the opportunity to think through the offer and not just mentally railing at the injustice of the situation.

Skywarp took advantage of the silence to turn to Thundercracker and ask, "That is all their asking for, right? No intel or combat, just the scan and we're done? They'll leave us alone?"

Thundercracker nodded. "Jazz made a point to remind me how anything that would inconvenience Megatron would be in our best interests, but he didn't make it a requirement. I doubt they'd ask us to fight either; none of them would trust us at their backs, for one."

They all breathed a soft sigh of relief at that. They may have left the faction, but that didn't mean they were excited about to fight against their former allies. He glanced over at Skywarp, mentally revising that thought. The other Seeker probably wouldn't mind the chance to get a shot in at Megatron

Skyfire had a pressing question of his own as well. "I don't suppose there's any middle ground?" he asked Thundercracker. "A choice between being a prisoner or undergoing the scan?"

He didn't hold out much hope for a desirable answer, and he wasn't disappointed. "None that would be worth it," Thundercracker said. "Apparently, we've managed to prove that traditional security measures are unreliable around us, which limited our options. The only other options Jazz offered were equally unpalatable with fewer benefits."

"Slag."

The curse was half-hearted at best. Now that the initial shock of the deal had faded, resignation began to settle heavily in his spark. Anger fizzled briefly into life again, but he couldn't sustain it very long. He didn't even try to. They were still at war, same as they'd been for the past millennia, and if this was the best deal they were going to get then he'd take it. It was still better than he'd expected, even though the price was steeper.

Starscream could feel the change as well. He looked at Skyfire as if his acceptance had been a personal betrayal, though his spark was already starting to calm down without Skyfire's emotions fanning the flames. Without the indignant anger overpowering his spark, there wasn't much else left.

"You'd all… really do it?" Starscream asked. His voice sounded… almost small. Confused and uncertain in a way he so rarely was. It made Skyfire want to reach over and pull him close, but he knew that would only put Starscream on the defensive again. They wouldn't get anywhere with him like that.

Skywarp and Thundercracker exchanged glances

"I think it would be worth it." Thundercracker ventured, carefully aware of how easily Starscream could slide back into blind fury. "Tactically, it would put us in a much better position to have Jazz on our side during any altercations involving other Autobots while we're here. The physical benefits he's offering our tempting as well."

Starscream didn't like that answer. He didn't say anything at first, letting the conversation lapse into silence. This time, though, his silence was more thoughtful as he mulled over Thundercracker's response.

"I'll need some time to think." He finally forced out almost a full breem later. The bond still burned with his unhappiness, now tinged with a hint of resignation.

"Take all the time you need," Thundercracker said. He rested a hand on Starscream's shoulder. "Don't feel like you have to say yes. Our safety isn't contingent on allowing the scan."

"But everything else is," Starscream muttered sullenly.

Immediately, Thundercracker stopped, stepped forward, and pulled Starscream close until their optics were lined up, barely a mechanometer apart.

"Star. 'Everything else' is a luxury. We don't need it, and we've dealt with far worse circumstances during the war. No matter what, we'll make this work."

Starscream dipped his head into a shallow nod. He didn't look convinced, but at least he didn't seem quite as fatalistic anymore. When he stepped back, pulling himself away from Thundercracker's loose hold, the other Seeker let him go. Starscream retreated from the bond as well, drawing himself inward to think without any outside input. It was an old habit, from back in the Academy when he'd tune the world out for cycles to focus on a particularly complex project.

Skywarp couldn't stand the cloying silence for very long. He left Starscream alone with his thoughts, but within a couple breems he started prodding at Skyfire to resume his tales about the Aerialbots. Skyfire complied, though it wasn't the same without the bursts of amusement from Starscream's spark or his occasional commentary. Eventually, they ended up back on the floor, sprawling out with limbs carelessly brushing one another, casual points of comfort in the sterile room.

Eventually, Starscream wordlessly wandered back over and sat down beside them, a silent ball of uncertainty against his side. Despite the added proximity, he shifted away from any further attempts at contact or comfort, making it clear he still wanted to be left alone. They'd exhausted Skyfire's stories about the Aerialbots and moved on to more general reminiscence by the time Starscream decided to rejoin them.

His spark evened out into the familiar, slow burn of determination as he straightened up. Skywarp stopped speaking mid-sentence at the motion, and they all sprang to attention in response.

"Fine. I'll do it," Starscream spat, sounding furious at the concession, though his spark didn't reflect his tone. He was unhappy, yes, and most certainly frustrated with the situation, but his spark wasn't rolling with fury so much as a reluctant, almost petulant determination.

The frustration flared for a moment as Starscream jumped up, spinning to face the camera, and shouted, "Ya hear that ya slaggers? We'll do your slagging obscene little test!"

Starscream switched from glaring at the camera to glaring at the door, and he wasn't disappointed. Soon enough that Skyfire doubted he'd ever left the monitoring room, Jazz came walking in. Jazz was all business now. He didn't bother joining them on the floor or pulling up a chair, just stood there in front of them, staring down. It was enough to send the rest of them to their feet, regaining some sense of control for the upcoming conversation.

"I wanna make this real clear an' uncomplicated," Jazz started. His voice rang loudly through the room. "I don't like doin' scans like this, an' I'll like it even less if ya start fightin' me halfway through. It's my job ta make sure ya don't feel like ya have ta, an' part a that is makin' sure there won't be any surprises. Personally, I think ya are tellin' the truth, an' I don't wanna make this any worse than it has ta be. Professionally, I can't take the risk that yer playin' some other game."

He fixed each of them with a solemn stare before continuing. "The way this'll work, you'll lower yer firewalls-_all _a them-an' I'll look through anythin' relevant ta yer defection an' stay in the Ark. I won't touch anythin' else 'less it's related ta that or ya start actin' suspicious. That means I won't go snoopin' fer intel or through personal files, not unless ya give me a good reason ta." A pause. "I'll also give ya the chance ta back out anytime ya want-just say the word an' I'm gone. A course, that'll nix the scan an' ya'll be back ta square one, but I'll stop immediately. No questions asked."

"That clear ta everyone?" he stopped, this time waiting for an actual response.

Skywarp and Thundercracker nodded, and Skyfire slowly added his agreement as well.

Starscream, of course, disagreed. "Wait," he said, visibly steeling himself. "I have one more thing. I have a… request for after the scan." He made a face at the last word, obviously annoyed at having to ask for something from the mech that had suggested the scan in the first place. "I want to work again. Give me lab space and a project to work on-something worthy of my skills-and you won't regret it. I _won't _be useless."

"That so?" Jazz drawled without revealing what he thought of the request.

Starscream lifted his chin proudly. "Yes."

Jazz tilted his head in consideration. "It's a simple 'nough thing. Shouldn't be much of a problem." He nodded decisively. "So long as ya pass, I'll see to it ya get a spot in the labs. They can always use the help."

He stepped back, addressing all four of them once again. "Wouldja rather have some more time ta prepare, or do ya want ta get it over with now?"

"No time like the present." Skywarp muttered. Louder, he said, "Let's do this now."

"Alright," Jazz said. "Let's get a bit more comfortable then." He turned and made his way towards the table and chair setup at the other end of the room.

The furniture was just as Spartan as it had appeared from afar but, upon closer look, one of the chairs was wide enough It could more accurately be called a bench. Either it had been designed for a frametype even broader than a Shuttle—a tank, perhaps—or it was meant for multiple mecha. Maybe both. Either way, it was the only chair large enough for him—the others were sized for more average frametypes—so it was the one they ended up standing behind.

Jazz stopped in front of the table and asked, "Any volunteers ta go first?"

The response from all of them was immediate. They might have agreed to this, but none of them were quite prepared for the reality of facing the scan only a few moments away. Skyfire could feel the intense fear spiking in Starscream's chest, despite his attempts to squash it down again, but his face was pale with the effort. Thundercracker and Skywarp looked much the same—rather queasy and not at all eager to volunteer.

So Skyfire pushed away his own reservations and stepped forward instead. "I would prefer to begin."

He sat down in the largest chair before the others could regain their voices and argue. Starscream made a choked sound and stepped forward, but a sharp look from him stopped the Seeker from doing anything stupid. After a klik, Starscream decided to sit down beside him in the chair, where there was barely enough room for his frame, and Skywarp and Thundercracker stood behind them.

Jazz just nodded and asked, "Would ya rather be offline or online fer it?"

"Online," Skyfire said immediately. If he was going to have Jazz rooting around in his head again, then he wanted to be aware for it.

Skyfire tried not to stiffen as Jazz settled down in the smaller chair next to him, slightly too close for comfort. Then again, with Jazz, anything less than a full room between the two would probably feel like not enough space.

He was allowed the dignity of opening and preparing his own medical port.

"Firewalls down?" Jazz asked. Skyfire nodded-he'd offlined the code as soon as he'd sat down.

"I'll make this as quick as I can," Jazz promised. Then he completed the connection. Immediately, the rest of the room fell away until the link opening up his own processer was the only thing he could focus on.

Jazz was as good at this as Skyfire remembered. He slid into Skyfire's processer easily, barely even disturbing the code with the faint ripples of his presence. It still felt wrong. No matter how smoothly Jazz moved through his processer, he still sent warning bells screaming that something was off—that his processer was entirely unprotected and there was some stranger rummaging around inside it. He'd let mecha beneath his firewalls before, but this was nothing like sharing memories with Starscream. The link was incredibly unbalanced in a way connecting with Starscream could never be. His defenses were completely disabled, but Jazz's SpecOps-grade firewalls were still active, blocking off Jazz's processer from the connection.

Skyfire clenched his fists when Jazz reached his memory files. Faintly, he could feel Starscream press closer to his frame, and the Seeker pulsed reassurance and concern over the bond. It helped, but not much. What was happening in the physical world didn't seem nearly as important as what was going on inside his processer. He followed the path Jazz took, starting with his memory of the mission that had led to his imprisonment and continuing onward.

Jazz skipped almost entirely over the period between discovering Starscream was alive and his retrieval, leaving him that small measure of privacy, but spent an inordinate amount of time analyzing the files surrounding Starscream's escape. There wasn't much left after that, just waiting in his cell, wondering what would happen, and the conversations with Skywarp and Thundercracker, which Jazz would have already listened in on. After that, Jazz slipped out of his memory files and, for the first time, weakened his firewalls to allow a single processing thread through: a question: _what do you want now?_

Skyfire's answer was in images as much as words. He plucked the short scenes from his memory files, pushing them along the connection. Working in the Iacon Academy labs, with Starscream beside him and how achingly _happy _he'd been back then. Flying over Cybertron, and seeing their world stretch onward, whole and beautiful and alive. He was tired of war. Tired of battlefields and watching patients deactivate, of seeing Skywarp and Thundercracker injured and being helpless to protect them. He shoved his hatred of the war and its affects at Jazz and let him see how much he'd be willing to give up if it meant real, lasting peace.

Jazz looked deeply into the memories Skyfire provided, looking for lies or manipulation or whatever else SpecOps knew could alter a memory file. He wouldn't find anything. After that, it was just a matter of waiting it out.

It was more than just a relief when Jazz finally pulled away. Smooth as the scan had gone-and it _had _gone smoothly, without any pain or complications-the lingering feel of the Autobot in his processer made his wings itch.

"Yer clear," Jazz said. "No problems at all."

They'd all known he had nothing to hide, but he could hear Thundercracker and Skywarp let out a breath of relief at the confirmation that the scan had worked. One down, three to go.

"I'll go next." Starscream, not to be outdone, said immediately. His trinemates started to protest, but Starscream silenced them with a glare and flick of his wings. Starscream might have been younger and less experienced than his trinemates now, but he was still their Trineleader.

Jazz waited to make sure the others wouldn't argue before asking, "Ya gonna stay online too?"

Starscream tried to say yes, but the words caught in his throat. His spark showed his panic at the thought, but the feeling warred with his pride. Skyfire put a hand on his shoulder and tried to send some reassurance back. He wouldn't think less of the Seeker for wanting to be unconscious for the scan, and he'd watch over him for every astrosecond Jazz was there.

"Offline. I'd rather be offline," Starscream admitted quietly.

Jazz hummed a semi-distracted acknowledgement as he finished prepping for the scan. He started to reach towards his arm, where the medical port was. "A'right. I'll just-"

"I can do it," Skyfire cut in. Letting himself instead of Jazz be the last thing Starscream felt before entering stasis was the least he could do. Jazz backed down without arguing, and Starscream just shifted over so Skyfire could reach better.

"I'll need you to lower your firewalls first," Skyfire said. He wouldn't be online to do it later. Skyfire waited until he saw Starscream's optics flash for a moment and his head dip in acknowledgement before continuing.

Activating the program to send Starscream into medical stasis was almost second nature now. Without any firewalls up, it started taking effect immediately, knocking him unconscious within a klik. Skyfire unplugged himself as soon as he felt Starscream's processer trickle to a stop, though he didn't move away from the Seeker's now-limp frame. Jazz didn't say anything, just shifted so he could work around him.

Thankfully, Starscream's scan was over much quicker than his own. It was still all Skyfire could do to sit still, fists clenched and frame tense, as Jazz slid open Starscream's medical port and jacked in. On the other side of their trinemate, Skywarp and Thundercracker looked like he felt: about a klik away from jumping Jazz and tearing the cable connecting them apart. Jazz, on the other hand, looked completely unconcerned by the three larger mecha staring him down. His visor was dark as he focused all of his attention on the scan. Skyfire glanced around and, yep, there were two cameras very visibly trained on the four of them.

Only a breem or so later, Jazz finished. His optics snapped back online, and he disconnected himself and coiled up the jack in one smooth motion. Immediately, he stepped backwards, giving the four of them some room.

"I left th' wakeup ta ya. Yer decision whether ya let him come outta stasis on his own or stop the program early."

Skyfire nodded, and he let Starscream sleep. Better he wasn't online to stress about watching his trinemates undergo the scan as well. He lifted Starscream up and stood, stepping back to stand beside Thundercracker.

Jazz turned toward the two remaining Seekers. "Who's next?"

This time, Skywarp stepped forward before Thundercracker could. He sat down in the same oversized chair and said, "I'll stay online too."

Skywarp bared his arm to the Saboteur, the cover to his medical port already open and ready. He flinched as Jazz plugged in, offlining his optics and growing rigid as the link connected.

In many ways, watching the other Seekers take the scan was easier. He still worried, a heavy, uneasy feeling in his spark, but Skywarp and Thundercracker knew how to protect themselves. Skywarp's scan didn't take much longer than his own had, but Thundercracker's lasted noticeably longer. Thundercracker stayed remarkably composed as the breems dragged on, but Skywarp grew visibly tenser as the link persisted. He managed to hold still while Jazz worked, but he kept squirming back and forth uncomfortably. As soon as the Saboteur disconnected, he sprang forward. Jazz didn't look surprised at all, just stepped smoothly out of the way. Skywarp nearly tackled Thundercracker as he recovered his equilibrium, not that the other Seeker protested.

Jazz was faintly smiling, looking more at ease than he had when he'd entered the room. He said to all of them, "Well then. Let me be the first ta officially welcome ya to the Ark. Mirage will be walkin' ya to yer new quarters soon as yer ready; ya'll be able ta recover in there fer as long as ya want."

Skyfire'd never had any doubt they would have passed the scans, but hearing it said out loud made it seem so much more real. He offlined his optics briefly to appreciate the validation that the scans would be worth it before straightening and onlining his optics again.

Thundercracker murmured a—rather curt—thanks and turned back to Skywarp. There would be time to relax, maybe even celebrate, later, but for now they were still in the holding cell and the mech who'd just been rummaging around in their memories was still close. Logically, he couldn't blame Jazz for doing his job, but he knew it would be a long time, maybe never, before he would be comfortable near the Saboteur.

Skyfire glanced down to where Starscream's frame was slowly booting back up. It only took a moment for him to connect and add the simple program that would bring him out of stasis quicker, in only a klik instead of a several breems. Starscream made a soft sound and squirmed closer as his processer quickened towards awareness, bringing him closer to consciousness. Starscream jerked upright, wobbling slightly, as soon as his processer had recovered enough for coherent thought. His optics darted towards his trinemates, and he didn't relax until he saw them others, undamaged and safe. His optics locked on Jazz next and, even with several large steps separating the Autobot from the rest of them, Starscream snarled at him. Skyfire tugged him back down, sending soothing waves over the bond.

"It's alright. We're all done," Skyfire said. "Skywarp and Thundercracker both underwent the scan with no complications."

Starscream's optics shot over to him in surprise. "They've already finished?" he squawked. "You should have woken me up!"

"It's healthier to let you come out of stasis on your own." he countered, which was only partially true-forcing someone out of stasis too early technically could damage some coding, but the chance was miniscule and easily repaired anyway.

Starscream humphed, unconvinced, but he was easily distracted by his trinemates, whom he immediately started fussing over.

To his surprise, Jazz had already slipped out while he'd been focusing on Starscream, and Mirage was now waiting patiently beside the door.

"Your quarters are nearby," he said as he started to walk. He nodded politely at Sideswipe as they passed. "Jazz presumed you'd prefer a room further away from where most of the Ark resides. One of the storage rooms has been converted for your use; it's in a low traffic, low security clearance section for your convenience."

He stopped speaking there, and the rest of the walk was silent. It took less than a breem, and they didn't run into any other Autobots along the way. Mirage brought them to a halt in front of a plain door in a long, empty hall and turned to face them.

"I need to send you two more things before I leave," he said, back ramrod straight and hands behind his back. "The first is a map of areas of the ship you're allowed to travel freely. It includes the rec room, Optimus Prime and Jazz's offices, the med-bay, and the science labs. I highly recommend you memorize the layouts and stay away from any sections of the ship you are not cleared to visit. Red Alert has volunteered to personally watch over you while you're out of your quarters, and he's known to err on the side of caution in regards to security matters."

Skyfire winced. He'd heard the rumors about the legendary—and paranoid—Security Director. With him watching, they wouldn't be able to accidentally stumble against a wall without him declaring it a plot to test the structural integrity of the ship. He resolved to be very, very careful.

Mirage continued, "The second thing is simpler. I will transmit the override codes for the locks on the door to your quarters. You will be able to reset the passcode as soon as I leave. Only the High Command Officers will be able to access your quarters without your permission, and they will only do so in an emergency situation."

"What counts as an emergency situation?" Skywarp asked suspiciously.

Mirage replied immediately, as if quoting something. "Any quantifiably suspicious behavior, such as attempts to hack our systems or transmissions outside the Ark, or any dangerous situations such as a Decepticon attack."

Skywarp considered that for a moment before nodding his acceptance. "Fair 'nough."

They all received the transmission at the same time. Skyfire spared the map only a cursory glance—their quarters and the locations seemed clearly marked—before accessing the override code, which also had the current passcode attached. Skyfire was the first to step forward and input the code, which also made him the first to set optics on their new quarters.

It was larger than the room he and Starscream had shared—large enough to comfortably fit three Seekers and a Shuttle, though it was still slightly cramped as all rooms on a ship were. The room was sparsely furnished and had obviously been put together in a hurry. Two large berths dominated the far end of the room, and closer were several chairs, a low table, and a desk.

Starscream and Skywarp followed him in, but Thundercracker paused for a moment at the edge of the room, turning to quietly say something to Mirage. Mirage nodded in response, and Thundercracker took the last step in, keying the door closed behind him. Curiosity almost forced a question out of Skyfire's vocalizer, but he held it back. Now that they were alone, Thundercracker looked like he was about to fall over from mental and physical exhaustion; he didn't need another interrogation.

Thundercracker sat heavily down in one of the chairs. It wasn't a Vosnian design and didn't have quite enough space for his wings to sit comfortably, but it had clearly been designed for mecha with back kibble—doorwings, perhaps? Either way, it was a thoughtful gesture.

And, just like that, it hit him. This was _their room._ Not a cell, not a temporary holding space. There wasn't a guard outside the door or a lock penning them in. They weren't plotting a way out or worrying about being turned back over to Megatron. This felt permanent, like they'd finally accomplished some far off goal. It was liberating, like they were all finally free of Megatron and together again, but also disconcerting at the same time.

Now what?" he mumbled, not quite expecting an answer. He got one anyway.

Skywarp patted him on the side on his way to join Thundercracker in the chairs. "We keep our heads down, don't cause any problems, and survive here, same as we did on the Nemesis," he said. "Hopefully with less trips to the med-bay."

And, to Skywarp, it was just that simple—survive. Skyfire wished he could calm the questions lingering in his processer with such a straightforward answer. Shaking his head in an attempt to dispel his worry, Skyfire joined the Seekers at the table. They brushed up against him in greeting, but nobody bothered to start a conversation.

Then, some time later, someone knocked on the door, sending everyone shooting to attention.

Thundercracker immediately took to his feet and went to answer it. A touch to the keypad opened it, revealing an unfamiliar mech, undoubtedly another foot soldier, holding a small metal container. The Autobot shoved the metal tin into Thundercracker's hands before immediately spinning around and leaving. Thundercracker, instead of staring after him in surprise like the rest of them, was looking at the box in his hand. He keyed the door closed without saying a word before walking over to the small table and setting it down, removing the lid as well.

Exchanging a confused look with Starscream, Skyfire walked over and glanced inside. The container was filled with a thick grey sludge that clung to the side of the metal. It glistened oddly in the light, unlike any other liquid he was familiar with. He resisted the urge to touch it and see if the texture was as strange as its appearance.

"What is it?" Skywarp asked, staring down at it in fascination. He leaned down to poke it with one finger, but Thundercracker hand shot out to stop his wrist.

"Careful. It'll screw up your color nanites for a few cycles if you touch it," he warned.

Skywarp froze, realization stilling his hand. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. "The brand?"

Thundercracker nodded. "It's a specifically programmed type of nanite gel that'll deprogram color nanites. After an orn or so, it should enable the natural color pattern to return."

Skywarp stared silently down at the jar, silent.

Thundercracker didn't push. "I won't make you use it, but… I think it's time."

Skywarp's voice was rough when he answered. "Yeah. You're right." His legs folded beneath him as he sat beside the bucket. His wings shuddered briefly. "Let's just get this over with. Tonight's just the night for unpleasant things apparently."

Skywarp was the picture of abject misery as Thundercracker picked up a worn mesh cloth, dipped it in the dark gel, and began smoothing it gently across the back of his wings. The first layer left a faint shimmer behind as Thundercracker carefully traced the edges of the brand. At the second layer, the purple of the brand started to fade, replaced by the light grey hue of the nanites gel. It took another couple coats before the brand was completely obscured, leaving behind a thick grey paste atop the thin plating. Then, shifting over, Thundercracker began on the back of his other wing.

Starscream watched the entire process, brow furrowed in thought. "This was really important to you, wasn't it?" he asked. He reached up and brushed against the purple brand, still bright against Skyfire's chest. The edges of the mark wouldn't have felt any different from his normal plating, but Starscream started tracing the symbol nonetheless.

Skyfire nodded. "Yes. More to them than me, but… We were with the Decepticons for many megavorns. It is… difficult to give that up, even though removing the brand is basically a formality at this point."

"Will you miss it?" Starscream asked, still staring at the brand.

Skyfire shrugged. "It will certainly be strange without it," he mused.

"That's not what I asked," Starscream cut back sharply. "I want a real answer."

This time, Skyfire gave it a bit more thought before answering. "No," he said honestly. "I worry for the mecha still trapped in the flagship-many of them have good sparks, despite what the war has done to them—but I never enjoyed my involvement in the war. I certainly won't miss being trapped on the same base as Megatron."

Starscream hummed thoughtfully, satisfied with that answer, and let the conversation trail away. They both just stood there for several moments, watching Thundercracker stoically apply the nanites mixture while Skywarp rigidly endured. Starscream's face grew more and more troubled as he watched.

"I don't understand it," Starscream finally burst out, just quietly enough for Skywarp and Thundercracker to ignore. "I've heard what Megatron's done, to you and to Cybertron. Why are you still so _loyal_ that you can barely stomach taking off the brand? Why did you wait so long before leaving?"

He sounded honestly confused, as if he couldn't fathom why anyone would have chosen to stay with the Decepticons given any other option. And to him, who had only seen the best of the Autobots and the worst of the Decepticons, it must have seen so clear-cut. But he hadn't been there in the beginning, when the Autobots had been just as uncontrolled and morally grey as the Decepticons. He couldn't understand how heavy the weight of so many megavorns of service to the Decepticons had been. So Skyfire brought up something he could.

"It would have been like having to hand in our resignations to the Iacon Academy if we, say, found out the entire organization was unforgivably corrupt and extorting the discoveries made within its walls," he said.

It wasn't a perfect analogy. So far as he knew, the Academy hadn't been corrupt and, even if it had been, nothing could have measured up to the destruction and violence that marked the Decepticon's history. It captured the same feel though—the mix of soured loyalty and betrayal.

Starscream looked stricken. "But that's completely different!"

"It's close enough. You forget—we've been with the Decepticons for longer than you and I had been part of the Academy. And, back in the beginning, the Decepticons stood for many things, most of them admirable, like equality and ending prejudice."

Starscream swallowed his protests and stopped, turning the concept over seriously in his head. Then, troubled, he looked up and asked, "Why didn't you leave after it got worse? When you realized what Megatron really was?"

He'd wondered that occasionally himself, on dark nights when the war seemed pointless and he grew sick of witnessing mech after mech deactivate, always wondering whether Skywarp and Thundercracker would be joining their ranks soon. It always came back to the same answer though.

"Defecting… hasn't been an option for most of the war. By the time Megatron showed his true colors, going Neutral was a death sentence. Neutrals always had a harder time surviving anyway without the protection of a faction, and Megatron would hunt down any defectors to make an example of them." A pause. "In some ways, my capture by the Autobots was a good thing—it made the idea of going to the Autobots for protection seem possible instead of a death sentence." He huffed a laugh at the irony.

Starscream inhaled sharply at the news about how Megatron treated defectors. "I'm glad you got the chance to leave," he said quietly. He sounded almost guilty for that after having heard how dangerous the decision had been.

Skyfire's response was even quieter. "So am I."

A second, unused cloth hung on the side of the bucket, which was still on the table beside them. Skyfire reached over to grab it, mostly to distract himself from thoughts that were rapidly turning morbid.

Starscream snagged the cloth before Skyfire could. "Let me."

He dipped it into the gel, making a face at the texture. Then, pushing Skyfire down and settling on his leg so he could reach easier, Starscream got to work. The nanite gel was colder than he expected. Each swipe of the cloth left a lingering chill on his plating as it dried, and the odd feeling only intensified as Starscream carefully brushed more on. He was very meticulous about following each line of the brand exactly, determined not to smudge some on the rest of his plating or make the temporary patch asymmetrical through crooked edges. It seemed like no time at all before Starscream was smoothing on the last layer.

"Done," said Starscream. He hung the used cloth along the edge of the bucket. A couple spots of liquid had splashed up his arm during the process, and Starscream wiped them away with a scowl, carefully inspecting the paint below for any signs of disturbed color nanites.

Thundercracker had finished coating Skywarp's wings while Starscream worked, and he'd since switched places with his trinemate. Skywarp was halfway through the first wing.

Silently, Starscream walked over and kneeled down besides Thundercracker's other wing. His face scrunched into a grimace as he reached into the bucket again, but he dutifully started covering up another one of the brands. With the three of them working together, it didn't take long before Thundercracker was done as well. He lightly rattled his wings with an uncomfortable frown; undoubtedly, the hardened gel, which was already getting annoying on Skyfire's chest, felt worse on the thinner, more flexible plating of his wings.

Skywarp began picking at the drying grey patch almost immediately, until Thundercracker caught his arm with a warning look.

"It needs time to work, or we'll have to go through the whole thing again," he cautioned. "Give it another breem to absorb, and you can brush off whatever's left,"

Skywarp gave an annoyed grumble, but he stopped touching his wings. His wingtips still twitched sporadically.

Skyfire waited the full breem before touching it, carefully at first, just barely brushing against it, then with more confidence. The edges had already started to separate from his plating, and the rest flaked off easily, though not all in one piece. After the last bits of dried gel crumbled off, Skyfire couldn't stop staring at the space left behind. It looked so… bare. Instead of the familiar, harsh lines of the brand he'd worn for millennia, there was only blank, grey metal. It stood out in a sharp contrast to the bright white of the rest of his chest, looking distinctly unhealthy. The disabled nanites seemed only marginally different from the grey of deactivation.

Skywarp and Thundercracker were helping each other clean the back of their wings when Skyfire glanced over. The large, grey patches revealed were just as off putting on their plating, to him and the Seekers. Skywarp couldn't seem to stop touching what he could see. He rubbed across the now-empty metal again and again, as if unable to believe the brand was actually gone. Thundercracker only allowed himself to trace the bare patch once before settling his hands firmly against his sides and standing up.

"It's late, and it's been a long day," he said. His voice was heavy with exhaustion. "Let's get some recharge; we can make more plans in the morning, when we're all well rested."

Nobody protested, and they all stood up, abandoning the bucket and sullied rags in the corner. Someone had been considerate enough to furnish the room with two oversized berths, close enough together for comfort but far enough apart for some measure of privacy. Whoever it was had undoubtedly known about a Trine's almost compulsive need to share a berth together when possible, recharging with wings and limbs tangled together.

Predictable, Skywarp and Thundercracker fell into the same berth, the one closest to the center of the room and thus more open to the air. Starscream automatically stepped forward to join them, but he hesitated, glancing back at Skyfire. He didn't need to say anything for Skyfire to understand what he was debating.

"Go ahead," Skyfire said. "I know how much you've missed them; I won't be insulted if you choose to recharge with them tonight."

"And tomorrow night?" Starscream asked, far too perceptive.

Skyfire broke eye contact, staring downward instead. "Its fine," he said, willing it to be true. He'd spent the last several megavorns sleeping alone. He may have grown used to having Starscream curled up against him at night again, but he wouldn't deprive Starscream of his right to reinforce the Trinebond.

Starscream cast a critical eye across the room before lighting up. "Or we could just drag your berth over and negate the need to choose at all."

He didn't even wait before walking over and doing just that. Thundercracker and Skywarp stirred at the resulting screech but settled quickly back down. Starscream didn't stop until the berths were flush against each other before staring at Skyfire expectantly.

Skyfire hesitated. Close as he'd grown to the other Seekers during the war, they'd only rarely shared a berth, when the strain of the war grew too much to sleep alone. Joining them now felt worryingly like intruding. Then Skywarp, glancing over to see what the hold-up was, waved him over without even pausing to think, and Skyfire felt sheepish for ever questioning his welcome. Starscream stayed standing until Skyfire had lain down before crawling between him and his trinemates. He gave a happy little sigh as he found his place, back pressed against him with wings folded down and limbs tangled with Skywarp's. He radiated happiness so strongly that it was impossible to ignore, helping Skyfire's spark settle after the stress of both the scan and removing the brand. He fell asleep quickly after that.

* * *

><p>…<p>

The next morning, when Starscream onlined, he was practically vibrating with pent-up energy. He was the first one to online, and the excited pulses of his spark soon roused the rest of them. Skywarp groaned and flopped over on the bed, halfheartedly trying to tug Starscream back down to relax, but Starscream easily danced out of his way. Of course, that put him in Skyfire's range, and it was easy to reach over and pin him down. Starscream yelped and ineffectively tried to squirm away.

"C'mon!" he whined, giving up on pushing against Skyfire's arm for a moment. "I've barely seen _anything _since waking up, and I'm sick of being cooped up in one room with nothing to do."

With a groan, Skywarp gave up on getting any more rest and propped himself up. "Can't say there's much to see," he grumbled. We're in a military base on a primitive organic planet. All you got to gawk at are Autobots, walls, and dirt."

"And a science lab. Can't forget that," Starscream chirped. Just the thought of that was enough to make Starscream flutter with excitement again.

"Not _now _though!" Skywarp moaned. "I'm not gonna deal with _Autobots_ first thing in the morning so we can explore some labs!"

Starscream paused. "You're right. We should get some energon first."

Thundercracker's head shot up from where he'd been steadfastly ignoring their argument. "Well, slag. We're going to have to retrieve our own energon now, aren't we?" he said matter of factly.

Starscream nodded, and Skyfire joined Thundercracker in groaning. He'd gotten used to having the energon brought to him. He hadn't even considered that having control of their own quarters meant they'd need to travel to the rec room to retrieve energon. They had a trek through Autobot filled hallways into the Autobot rec room to look forward to. Every day. Starscream took advantage of the distraction to slip free from Skyfire's grasp. Skyfire didn't bother trying to pull him back down again; they'd already lost.

Starscream grinned, smug from winning the argument and his newfound freedom. "Yep. And, judging from my chronometer, we're already part way through first shift. So, unless you wanna wait until later, when more mecha will be free and hanging around in the rec room, I suggest we get going now."

He was met by twin groans and a thump as Thundercracker's head thudded back down onto the berth. Starscream crawled forward and reached over Skywarp to prod at Thundercracker.

"C'mon! You're _wasting _time!" he whined. After poking at an unreactive Thundercracker for another few moments, he switched to Skywarp.

Skywarp pushed him off the berth. With a yelp, Starscream tumbled over Thundercracker to land on the floor with a loud crash, where he stayed, blinking up at Skywarp in surprise. Thundercracker flailed up at the sudden noise, frame audibly humming with excess charge as the last vestiges of sleep abandoned him. He relaxed when he saw it was only Starscream but didn't lie back down. Reluctantly, he swung his legs over the edge of the berth and stood up, stretching the kinks out of his frame. He nudged Skywarp into joining him, and after that Skyfire didn't have an excuse for staying in bed any longer. Starscream stood up, his pleasure at getting his way overshadowing his disgruntlement at Skywarp.

As the two Seekers moved, the light reflected off the blank patches on their wings. The empty spots were just as stark as they'd been the night before, and the sight of them sent a brief ache through Skyfire's chest. He spent a moment to acknowledge the loss once again before pushing it aside.

Skywarp sidled up beside him, rubbing at his face. "Wanna bet Jazz planned it this way on purpose to screw with us?" he complained under his breath.

"More likely he wanted to ensure we're going to be visible instead of camping out in our room for the next vorn," Skyfire said back. After all, what kind of SpecOps commander would he be if Jazz let an opportunity like this pass him by? The defection of a High Command Officer was among the most exciting things to happen in the war for vorns, and what better way to rub it in Megatron's face than to have them seen moving, free and unharmed, through the ship?

Whatever the reason, it meant there were three Seekers and a Shuttle left staring at the door, trying to prepare themselves to face the rest of the ship. Nobody made a move to key open the door. Not yet, at least. When actually faced with the prospect of leaving the—relative—safety and isolation of their room, exploring the rest of the ship didn't sound nearly as attractive.

"Well? We going?" Skywarp asked, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot.

In response, Thundercracker stepped forward and input the code to open the door. He was the first one out, with Starscream appearing immediately over his shoulder. He and Skywarp filed out next. At first glance, he didn't see anyone in the hall outside their quarters. It was just them and the security cameras that shifted to follow their movement. The rec room wasn't too far from their quarters, only a breem's walk or so. Less, if they moved quickly. They did. Within a few steps, the three of them fell into a protective formation around Starscream, who huffed but nonetheless relaxed a bit more. They made it to the rec room in record time, having only passed a couple of Autobots.

They'd timed their visit to be in the middle of a duty shift, so the room held only a small scattering of Autobots socializing on their off shift. It was still too many. The only good news was that none of the officers were there, only unranked mecha he vaguely recognized. The first mech to catch sight of them dropped his energon cube in surprise. The resulting clatter drew the attention of the rest of his table and a couple neighboring ones, and they followed the first's stunned gape to the entrance of the room. Their conversation immediately crashed to a halt.

The silence rippled outward as more mecha looked over until not a single mech in the room was still speaking. Some of their faces were neutral, others were carefully guarded, and a handful downright hostile. Of course, one of the hostile tables, which was filled mostly with mini-bots, was situated right along the route to the energon dispenser, which was at the other end of the room.

The energon dispenser suddenly seemed very far away.

They must have made quite a sight. Three Seekers and a Shuttle, standing motionless in the doorway as an entire room full of Autobots gaped at them. Then Starscream huffed and stepped forward, head and wings held high as he entered the room.

Skyfire recognized that walk. More of a strut, really. It was the same walk the Seeker had perfected in the walls of the Academy, surrounded by mecha who'd believed a war build had no place among scientists.

Skywarp and Thundercracker, of course, lurched into motion as soon as they registered that Starscream was moving without them. Only a step behind, they quickly caught up and fell into standard formation behind him. Skyfire brought up the rear in their group, though they were still close enough together that he could have easily reached over and clasped Starscream on the shoulder.

Muttered conversation sprung up around them again, and it wasn't hard to figure out what they were talking about. Skyfire did his best to ignore them, focusing on the energon dispenser instead of the Autobots unabashedly staring at them.

Despite Jazz's promise, Skyfire was still half-surprised when the dispenser worked for them, filling enough cubes for the four of them. Thundercracker passed the cubes out, and they immediately abandoned the dispenser for a less crowded area of the room. Starscream took the lead again. Instead of heading back to their quarters, he made his way towards the empty tables near the back of the room. Skyfire sent the exit a longing glance but, like the other two Seekers, followed. Starscream chose one of the tables in the corner, far from any other mech, and sat down with his wings facing the wall. They filed in around him.

Skyfire leaned down beside Starscream's head. "Why here?" he murmured quietly, fully aware of how silent the room still was.

Starscream didn't even bother lowering his voice when he replied. "I'm not letting anyone scare us into hiding in our room. We have as much a right to be here as they do."

He said it with complete conviction, as if they weren't three former Decepticons and a Neutral squatting inside the Autobot flagship. He did have a point though—they were allowed, no, _required, _to come to the rec room for energon now, and they couldn't run forever. So, reluctantly, Skyfire resigned himself to enduring the awkward silences and—hopefully—baseless threatening glares while he drank. He was relieved to find that, when they did nothing more interesting than sip their energon and speak quietly, the crowd soon lost interest. Most of the room slowly began to return to their previous conversations, only sending their table the occasional suspicious glance.

Every time the rec room door opened, Skyfire's eyes darted over to see who was entering. Skywarp and Thundercracker did the same, though Starscream seemed content to ignore the rest of the room. Most of the time, the new arrivals just stared for a bit before joining the other Autobots. Then, a couple breems into their visit, Skyfire glanced up at a new arrival only to realize he recognized the Praxian standing there: Bluestreak. The Sharpshooter scanned the room obtrusively for a few kliks before finding their table at the back of the room.

"Skyfire!" Bluestreak called as soon as their optics met. His exclamation was met with renewed mutterings from the rest of the room as Bluestreak bounced over to their table. Skywarp and Thundercracker fell silent as well, watching the Praxian with suspicious optics.

As Bluestreak neared, his optics lingered on the spot where the brand used to sit. His natural color had barely started to return to the edges of the bare metal. making its absence glaringly obvious. He stopped in front of their table and stayed there, despite the confused and rather unwelcoming stares from most of its inhabitants.

"And Starscream! Hi! I've seen you a couple of times before, but we never got a chance to actually talk or anything. It's nice to see you in the rec room!" Without even waiting for an answer, he turned to face the last members of the table too. "And you must be Thundercracker and Skywarp! I haven't seen you up close before; it's a bit weird seeing you close up 'stead of across a battlefield. I'm Bluestreak, by the way."

Skywarp's optics flashed in recognition at the name. "The Sharpshooter?" he asked in surprise.

Bluestreak's smile flickered for a moment before he nodded. "Yeah, I'm a gunner. You've heard of me?"

"Your aim is pretty legendary," he said, respect coloring his tone. He looked like he was about to continue, and, knowing Skywarp's utter lack of tact, Skyfire subtly kicked him under the table. Now really wouldn't be a good time to bring up kill records or bounties. Skywarp's expression flickered from confused to understanding and settled on sheepish.

Bluestreak glanced down at the empty seats at their table and asked, "Mind if I join you?"

Skywarp and Thundercracker looked to him for an answer. Thundercracker tilted his head questioningly as if to ask whether the Autobot could be trusted, and Skyfire sent him a slight nod. If there was any Autobot he trusted not to have some secret scheme to harm them, it was Bluestreak.

Skyfire smiled at him. "Of course you can. We'd be happy for some amicable company."

Bluestreak flashed him a broad grin before pulling out the empty chair and sitting down, flicking his doorwings out of the way.

"Are you going to get some energon?" Starscream asked.

"Nope! I already ate," Bluestreak replied. "I heard that you guys had gone into the rec room and I'm off-duty and haven't seen you since before the whole Starscream disappearing thing—which sent the whole base into a tizzy, by the way-so I decided to come over and say hi! Plus, everyone's been talking about the Command Trine now but nobody actually knows anything about you guys and I wanted to meet you."

Skywarp leaned forward, curiosity lighting up his optics. "And what are they saying about us?"

"A bunch of stuff." Bluestreak shrugged. "It's mostly just harmless speculation since nobody really knows what's going on, meaning there's a lotta talk 'bout why you're here and what you're planning and how it'll affect the war. And nobody can agree, so we've got probably dozens of ideas and stuff floating around."

"Anything dangerous?" Thundercracker asked forcefully, leaning forward. He'd latched onto the source of information with fervor.

Bluestreak didn't seem to mind. "Nah. Nobody's been planning on actually starting anything bad, unless you count watching you, at least not in public. They'd have to be _really _stupid to do that though—Prowl would be on them in, like, a _breem_, and then they'd have Prowl's punishment and then a lecture from Optimus about how they're being stupid and going against everything the Autobots are supposed to stand for, and, let me tell you, Prime's got the disappointed stare down to an art! Plus, it would be a lot worse if they actually pulled something off before getting caught"

He leaned forward earnestly. "Prime takes these things really, really seriously. He really wants this to work. I think a lot of mecha do. They just don't wanna admit it's possible that a 'Con might not be a complete slagheap, 'cause that just makes things complicated." Bluestreak backtracked, waving his hands frantically. "Not that I think you guys are bad mecha, 'cause I really, really don't! For one, I think it's really cool that you basically left the 'Cons and came here 'cause of Starscream. Plus, even though you guys are super famous Decepticons you don't have the same kinda reputations as some of the other, really slagged up 'Cons. You're just known for being really dangerous on the battlefield and scarily competent, which wasn't good for the whole fighting against you thing but has nothing to do with you personally."

"I… thanks," Thundercracker responded with a mix of confusion and bemusement. Bluestreak just seemed to grow more flustered as he glanced around the table, looking for a distraction. Skyfire got the feeling that, if the Praxian had an energon cube, he would have been hiding behind it.

Skyfire took pity on him and decided to steer the conversation into more neutral topics. It didn't take much. Just the mention of something harmless, in this case the organic planet, found Bluestreak latching on and running with it, bombarding them with his knowledge about the planet and its locals.

He glanced up as the door slid open again and stilled when he saw the Twins enter. They made a beeline straight towards their table without even glancing at the energon dispenser, weaving in and out of stray chairs and tables, and Thundercracker hissed a quiet curse beside him.

Relaxed and with his back to the door, Bluestreak didn't even notice the oncoming mecha until they were almost directly behind him. His doorwings twitched, and he stopped speaking mid word, brow furrowed as he turned around. Unlike the rest of them, his face lit up when he caught sight of the famous Frontliners.

"Sideswipe! Sunstreaker! I thought you guys were busy!" he exclaimed. He positively beamed at the new arrivals, either completely unaware at the sudden tension or a better actor than Skyfire gave him credit for.

Sideswipe returned the smile, but his optics remained trained on Thundercracker and Skywarp. Instead of sitting down, the Twins ended up flanking the Praxian with Sideswipe half sprawled against Bluestreak's side. In comparison, Sunstreaker kept a noticeable distance between his plating and anyone elses, and he didn't even pretend to be happy about joining them. The effect was more protective than friendly.

"Never too busy to spare a visit for our Bluestreak!" Sideswipe said, giving Bluestreak an affectionate nudge on the shoulder.

That small, familiar gesture, more than anything else, set off warning bells in his processer. It wasn't some empty show of solidarity against an enemy-no, there was some honest emotion lurking in the motion. Bluestreak, apparently, was friends with the Twins. And they had come running at the news that their Praxian was consorting with former 'Cons.

Thundercracker and Skywarp shared an uneasy glance that trailed, almost in unison, over to Starscream. Then Skywarp swallowed the last dregs of his cube before slamming the now empty container on the table with a loud clatter. He stood up, sending a rather obviously fake smile around the table. "Well! If the rest of you are done, then would you like to head back to the-"

"No," Starscream cut in. "It would be rude to leave without even introducing ourselves to our new guests."

He looked around the table, head high and wings just shy of being challenging, as if daring someone to contradict him. To his right, Thundercracker had offlined his optics and looked like he was hoping that, if he just wished hard enough, the whole situation would disappear on its own, Skywarp slowly sat back down, giving Starscream a plaintive stare, but the other Seeker didn't budge. He'd always hated anything that stank of running away, even when a tactical retreat would be smarter.

Starscream wasn't even done. "Are you planning on just standing there all cycle?" he asked, giving the Twins an obviously unimpressed once-over. "Either go grab some energon or sit down-you're blocking my view of the rest of the room like this."

Skyfire almost choked at the sheer impudence in his voice. Starscream had _no _idea who he'd just challenged; except, knowing Starscream, he'd have said the same thing even then, regardless of common sense. A flicker of surprise crossed Sideswipe's face, but it didn't last long before the Frontliner covered it up with his casual bravado. "Thanks for the invitation," he said, pulling out a chair beside Bluestreak and flopping in as if that had been his plan the whole time.

His twin grabbed a chair on Bluestreak's other side, leaving Skyfire with the yellow Twin sitting just an arms width away. The mech only stared at him a moment, as if daring him to move any closer, before refocusing his glare on the Seekers. Obviously, despite his size, Skyfire didn't register as much of a threat to him. Pretty accurate, considering how the Twins could probably eviscerate him in less than a breem while Skywarp and Thundercracker had already proven they could hold their own against them several times over.

"This is Sideswipe and Sunstreaker," Bluestreak introduced, pointing at each of them. "Not that the three of you wouldn't, uh, know them, but I don't think Starscream's met them yet."

He flashed an almost embarrassed grin, acknowledging the awkwardness in introducing the Twins to the mecha they had come very close to making a game out of trying to deactivate. Then Bluestreak clapped his hand and, voice incrementally too loud to be normal, changed the subject.

The best thing about speaking with Bluestreak was the complete lack of awkward silences. Every time someone made a remark that was a bit too blatantly hostile or Skyfire thought they couldn't possibly find another neutral topic to discuss, Bluestreak stepped in effortlessly, filling in the tense silence with his casual chatter and coaxing their more reticent members into conversation. He even managed to get Sunstreaker involved in a debate about the relative merits of Earthen supplies and energon sources versus their own.

He wouldn't quite go so far as to call it a pleasant conversation, but it was at least tolerable. Borderline amicable, even, after the Twins got settled. Little by little, he actually started to relax. It seemed like Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had only come to intimidate them into behaving around Bluestreak and, with that over with, they were just going along with the Praxian's conversation. With the occasional glare and thinly veiled threat, of course, but that was hardly worth mentioning. Pit, they'd dealt with worse than that on the Nemesis, among mecha that were supposedly allies.

The first wave of the afternoon rush of mecha into the rec room was just starting to appear when they managed to successfully pull away from the conversation. This time, Starscream didn't argue when Thundercracker made their excuses to leave; even he seemed rather unnerved by the idea of being stuck among a crowd of Autobots.

Starscream glanced back once before passing through the doorway, looking back to where Bluestreak was still chatting merrily away at the Twins. As they watched, he even managed to get Sunstreaker, who'd relaxed minutely at their absence, to crack a small, almost invisible smile.

"Bluestreak," Starscream mused quietly. "I'll have to remember his designation."

Skyfire nodded. "He's a good mech."

Third shift was just ending, leaving more mecha mulling about the hallways now than when they'd entered. As they passed, they encountered the same suspicious stares, awkward silences, and muttered conversations their entrance had prompted in the rec room. Again, nobody stepped forwards to physically confront them, though a couple of the minibots looked like they were seriously considering doing so.

They walked very quickly.

Starscream perked up when they passed the hallway that, according to the map, led to the science wing. He was met with a unanimous, hissed denial, followed by a-very reluctant-'maybe later.' He didn't argue; even Starscream wasn't impatient enough about seeing the labs to justify having to interact with even more Autobots.

All of them breathed a sigh of relief when the door of their rooms slid closed behind them, closing them off from the rest of the ship. Thundercracker continued to inspect the door, as if attempting to determine how secure it was, while Skywarp immediately flopped down onto the berth with a loud groan.

"Well. That was...not bad for a first try," Skyfire ventured into the somewhat awkward silence.

The statement helped break the lingering tension in the room. Skywarp snorted, propping himself back up on his elbows. "We successfully got some energon, nobody tried to attack us, and the worst we got was some glares and a couple a implied threats. We even had a conversation with the same crazy mecha who were trying to rip our wings off for trophies a couple a orns ago! I'd say that was pretty slagging fantastic."

He and Thundercracker nodded along, but Starscream stared at Skywarp like he'd gone insane. "Wait, _rip your wins off for trophies?_" he shouted-shrieked, really.

His horrified face really shouldn't have been funny, but it somehow managed to set them all off in a way that was at least half hysterical.

Skywarp was still chuckling lightly when he spoke. "Alright, maybe not for trophies-even they're probably not _that _macabre-but they've got a reputation for a reason, and they're some of the only grounders who specialize in taking down Seekers." He smirked. "We always gave as good as we got when they went after us though."

Strangely, that didn't seem to help calm Starscream down. "This is serious! They really tried to _deactivate_ you!"

"Well, yeah. They're _Autobots,_" he said, as if that explained everything. Which, to the three of them who'd lived through the war, made perfect sense. To Starscream, not so much.

"Just how many mecha here have tried to kill you?" he asked, obviously dreading the answer.

"Well…" Skywarp started, tapping his chin thoughtfully. He was enjoying this far too much; probably getting revenge for Starscream forcing them to stay and chat in the first place. "If you take into account how long the war's been and especially how often we've fought since arriving on this planet, then just about everyone has probably tried their luck at one time or another. The Twins are only special 'cause they invented a really annoying way to fight flyers, so we went up against each other a lot."

At Starscream's strangled sound, he shrugged. "It was war. Nothing personal."

Taking a few steps to the side, Starscream sat down heavily on the berth besides Skywarp. The purple Seeker gave him a few comforting pats on the wing, humoring his shock over what was—to him—completely normal.

"Is _that _why they came over?" Starscream asked, sounding more indignant than anything and only partially horrified, which was definitely an improvement.

A shrug. "Probably part of it. I'm sure they felt some sort of responsibility or whatever to check in on us, make sure we weren't planning some nefarious plot." He stopped, frowned. "They seemed particularly protective of Bluestreak though; that was probably a big part of it too. I never heard any rumors of the three of them being close, but who the slag knows what's going on with the grunts."

He turned to Skyfire. "Bluestreak seemed to know you pretty well, though. What was that all about?"

"I spoke with Bluestreak quite a bit while he was on guard duty," Skyfire answered. "He is a… surprisingly friendly mech, and he has expressed concern for our well-being several times. He's trustworthy, as much as any Autobot can be."

"Huh. Weird."

Without even looking up, Starscream grumbled, "At least there's one nice mech among the slaggers who've tried to deactivate you."

Skywarp burst out laughing. He kept laughing until it looked like Starscream would pounce on him in frustration before trailing off into sporadic giggles. "Friendly he might be, but Bluestreak's just as deadly as the rest of them. He's taken his shots same as the rest of them-quite literally. He's a Sharpshooter, the best one the Autobots have, and I'm willing to bet he's been the cause of some pretty spectacular crashes." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Actually, next to the Twins, he was probably one of the most dangerous Autobots for anyone in the air."

Starscream looked up just enough to fix Skywarp with a horrified look before letting his helm thump back down. "I give up," he groaned, voice muffled by the berth. "Everybody, _every slagging person, _we meet here wants to kill us."

"You get used to it. Besides, it's want_ed _now-past tense! That's a big improvement!"

Starscream glared, as if incredulous that Skywarp had even said that. "_You _didn't seem so sure that it was safe when we were sitting in the rec room. Or was there another reason you decided to leave soon as you saw those frontliners sit down?" He said the last line almost mockingly.

Skywarp winced. "Alright, so maybe megavorns of trying to slag each other doesn't go away overnight. At least they're not technically allowed to harm us anymore."

"Great. Because, apparently, punishing someone for attacking us would be a benefit instead of an expectation. I feel so reassured."

Starscream groaned, offlining his optics and wallowing in self-pity for a moment before sighing and straightening up. He shifted around, settling in for a long conversation. "Tell me about them," he ordered. "We're gonna keep walking around the Ark, meaning we're going to interact with a slagload of Autobots. I don't want to be caught off guard if we run into someone with a grudge."

It was a smart enough request that Skyfire wondered why they hadn't thought of it earlier. He pulled up one of the chairs to the berth and settled in, and Thundercracker sat down in a free spot on the berth besides Starscream's legs. He took a moment to figure out where to start. There were so many Autobots, all of them dangerous in their own way, and he had no way of knowing which ones they'd run across. They eventually started with what they knew about Jazz and the other SpecOps agents they'd run into, who were likely to be the most dangerous mecha they'd meet.

The Twins were among the only mecha they had extensive, personal experience with on the battlefield, so most of what they knew boiled down to rumors, brief glimpses on the battlefield, and the known skillsets of different mecha. Eventually, they all ended up connecting to each other, sharing images and the less violent memories of different Autobots. The connection was awkward at first, with the lingering feel of Jazz's presence still fresh in all their minds, but they managed to relax and return to relative normalcy soon enough. Then the weight of the others' ticking processers turned into a comforting pressure, and the memories flowed more freely between them.

~.*.~

**AN**: Sorry about the super long wait. I was having trouble getting started with this chapter (that first scene made me want to print it out just so I could set it on fire), and then some major, shitty personal things happened in real life and I didn't feel like writing for a while. On the plus side, you get a super long chapter (since I wrote the last, long scene long before finishing the first one).

I'm also planning on doing Camp NaNoWriMo for my first real original work for July, so I may end up late with that chapter too. After that, though, I should resume my normal once a month or so updating schedule until this is done.

(I like to think of Optimus being completely over the moon about the idea of having some high-ranked defectors and really hopeful it might set a precedent for other 'Cons. Then more pragmatic mecha, like Jazz, having to bludgeon him with necessary security measures, like making sure they're not spies.)


	23. A Price to Pay

Tangled Destiny

Chapter 23: A Price to Pay

* * *

><p>…<p>

Starscream finally managed to get his visit to the science lab a few cycles later, after they'd recovered from their first foray into the rec room. Skyfire used that time to listen to the noise outside their door, trying to get a feel for the rhythm of activity inside the Ark. In time, he was hoping to memorize a complete map of the Ark's schedule so they could avoid any crowds.

The route to the science labs was, thankfully, less crowded than the walk to the rec room had been. All four of them walked over together; they'd unanimously decided that Starscream would not be walking anywhere alone. They'd already planned out guard shifts for the time Starscream would be working, not that they'd told him that. The Seeker would balk at the idea of needing help. So they waited until arriving at the labs before breaking the news.

Starscream looked confused when Skyfire stopped outside of the labs and motioned for the Seeker to continue on alone.

"They agreed to let a Neutral work in their labs," Skyfire said gently. "Not a former Decepticon."

It was a simple concept for Skyfire. He was an ex-'Con. Most Autobots were put off by that. Thus, it was less complicated for him to stay out of the labs; a guard instead of a lab partner.

Starscream got that stubborn set to his jaw. "If they have a problem with you helping, then they can come to _me._" he sniffed. "'Sides, they'd have to be _stupid _not to want your help. I bet you're better than any one of the slagfaces they have working in there!"

"Star..." Skyfire sighed, but Starscream didn't take the bait.

"At least give it a _try._" he wheedled, grabbing Skyfire's hand and-ineffectively-trying to pull him forward. "I'm not gonna let you give up before you even start!"

Chuffing a quiet laugh, Skyfire let himself be convinced. "Alright. But if they tell me to leave, don't argue."

If nothing else, it would give him a chance to request that they be able to keep an optic on Starscream from inside the room instead of the hallway, a target for every stray Autobot that wandered by. He turned to the other two Seekers.

"Regardless of how this turns out, I'll be taking first shift then," Skyfire said.

Thundercracker nodded and asked, "And if it doesn't work out?"

"Then I'll come back to the room when it's time to switch shifts," Skyfire said simply. "I'll 'com you if I run into any trouble."

He doubted he would-his size would, hopefully, still be enough of a deterrent here-but you never knew when the suspicious stares and simmering anger over their presence would peak.

Thundercracker accepted the promise with a troubled expression. "Stay safe," he said. "Both of you."

Starscream waited impatiently for them to finish their goodbyes. He still hadn't let go of Skyfire's arm and tugged him once again towards the door. This time, he , they opened the door and stepped in.

His first impression was of organized chaos. The lab was cluttered with various parts and machines alongside more traditional lab equipment. A large, unfamiliar machine had seemingly been gutted in the middle of the room, with wires and bits of metal sticking out every which way and a colorful array of gears and parts radiating around it. Skyfire immediately wondered what it was supposed to do.

He only let himself be distracted by the lab for a few brief moments before pulling his attention to the Autobots standing among the workstations. There were two of them, one near a gutted machine and another at a desk further back. The first mech, who had a pair of flashing panels framing his face, immediately set down the part he'd been holding and walked over to greet them. He was smiling.

"Hey! I'm Wheeljack," he said. "Red Alert told us you were heading this way! Nice to meet you."

He stuck out his hand in an imitation of the organic's normal greeting. Starscream stared down at it in confusion, so Skyfire stepped forward and gave it a soft shake. He dared to meet Wheeljack's smile with a hesitant one of his own. Wheeljack had a very… unorthodox reputation involving copious amounts of explosives, but that was among the friendlies greetings they'd had. Plus, a brief scan of his desk showed that there were no incendiary devices or unstable chemicals nearby.

Wheeljack let go of his hand and, turning, motioned them further into the room. Starscream had a decidedly smug feel to his spark as he nudged Skyfire. _See? _he seemed to say. _They aren't upset at all by your presence!_ Skyfire pretended to ignore him, but his relief was obvious. Whatever happened, it didn't seem like the scientist was about to kick him out. At least, not the first one they met.

Skyfire glanced back at the corner where the second Autobot was still standing, but the mech still hadn't reacted to their presence. Considering how few scientists were in the Ak's crew, the second scientist working in the back had to be Perceptor. The red mech barely even glanced up at their arrival before returning his attention back to whatever he was working on.

"I heard you guys specialized with energon production?" Wheeljack asked as he started clearing off a wide table for them. It was covered by several distinctly organic looking scraps, which Wheeljack just swept to the side or into a large container

He barely waited for their nods before continuing. "Great! We could really use your help!" Having cleared off at least half of the table, he turned away and started digging through several large rolls of paper on his desk, speaking over his shoulder at them. "Right now we've got enough machinery to produce more than enough energon, but the facilities always seem to be breaking down or getting attacked by Megatron."

He looked up, side panels flashing brightly. "That's where you come in. We're looking at alternative options to create more, less vulnerable towers or reduce the problems at the current ones. Some fresh pairs of optics, especially ones who really know what they're doing, would really help."

Starscream leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of the papers in his hand. "What kind of energy conversion do they use?" he asked. He'd perked up as soon as Wheeljack had mentioned the schematics.

Wheeljack's face lit up, matching Starscream's enthusiasm with his own. "The ones on top are solar powered, but there should be a geothermal design for the volcano mixed in somewhere." He shoved the schematics at them and stepped back, still grinning.

"You take a look at them, especially the top one. I really have to get back to the converter I'm reassembling; Ratchet wants it fully functional by tonight, and I don't want to disappoint!" And with that, he hopped back over to his own desk and started fiddling with the parts once more.

Skyfire sat down at the table Wheeljack had indicated with a bemused smile on his face. He had the feeling he was going to enjoy sharing a workspace with the energetic engineer. The table and chair fit his frame well enough and, spreading his copy of the schematic across the surface, he got to work.

* * *

><p>…<p>

The Autobot's Energon collection methods were… adequate.

Skyfire had one of their more recent designs spread out on a table before him. The schematics were oddly fascinating, having been designed and built specifically for the organic planet, but the actual execution was rather… lacking.

Skyfire would wager that the facilities had been built by regular engineers, not actual Energon specialists. There had been few enough of them before the war, and now… Skyfire wouldn't be surprised if he and Starscream really were the last mecha with any concrete background in experimental Energon production.

Some of the designs and jury-rigged connectors were just… ugly. Clever and functional, of course, and Skyfire had no doubt that they produced perfectly serviceable energon, but they were so _inefficient._ He could already see dozens of improvements that would make the entire process far more efficient and streamlined. If he was given an orn to think about it, Skyfire was sure he could reduce the necessary materials by half and improve the collection process to last for vorns even with the organic's strange materials.

As he worked, Skyfire winced at each design flaw and clumsy sector but held his tongue, planning on politely penning in suggestions when he got the chance. Starscream wasn't nearly so tactful. He tossed his copy of the schematic down on the table with a disdainful huff and slapped a finger on a particularly disjointed jumble of connections.

"Who the Pit thought it was a good idea to put _this _slag here!" he said, lips curled in outrage.

Skyfire could feel him raring up for a full-on rant, practically seething with irritation. Nothing could rile him up quite like looked up from his desk, blinking in surprise and holding a wrench in one hand.

Skyfire put a hand on Starscream's shoulder before he could say anything else. Leaning down, he quietly said something he'd assumed was obvious, "Starscream, please don't insult our hosts."

Starscream stood there, finger still up in the air, for several kliks before it sunk in that, yes, these mecha had the power to ban them from the labs (or worse). He backed down with a quiet grumble and a glare. He crossed his arms belligerently, wings still hiked up. "It's so _stupid _though," he said, meaning the schematic.

"Which is why we're here to fix it," Skyfire said emphatically. He smiled. "_Show _them how much better your ideas are."

While Starscream pondered that possibility, Skyfire shifted so that he and Starscream could share the schematic. He pointed at one of the problematic points he'd mentally signaled out earlier.

"What do you think about rewiring this piece?" he asked. "We could run a third of the wires through the gap over here, which would free up some space to..."

He kept talking, explaining his idea, but he knew he already had Starscream sufficiently distracted. The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, with few disturbances from anyone. They had to field a com call or two from the other Seekers checking on their wellbeing, but otherwise they had cycles of uninterrupted time to cover the schematics with scattered notations and suggestions. It was quite possibly the most relaxing afternoon Skyfire had had in vorns.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Sometimes, when the lab was quiet and the Autobots didn't bother them, it was easy to forget what was happening outside the doors. They only really had to deal with the hostile Autobots when they needed to get energon, and it was a rare thing when they actually had to speak to anyone. Things started to grow… comfortable. Routine, in some ways.

After a couple mind numbing days of doing nothing in their quarters, Skywarp and Thundercracker had started spending more of the solar cycle in the rec room, trying to get the rest of the Ark used to their presence. Thundercracker had hoped that, eventually, he'd be able to progress into forming alliances and integrating themselves more fully into the crew, though it wouldn't be anything like the complicated web of information and connections that he'd maintained in their former faction.

Having them around the Ark, exposed to any Autobot, made him nervous when he thought about it, so he tried not to. He trusted both Seekers and their ability to take care of themselves, and he'd consciously decided to believe Jazz's promise that they'd be left alone.

They should have been more careful.

He and Starscream were in the lab, just starting to finish up for the day, when the Seeker's side of the bond suddenly burst into life. Surprise and worry dominated the connection, though a strong dose of fear wasn't far behind. Starscream dropped the datapad he'd been holding, and it fell to the table with a clatter.

"Something's wrong with Skywarp," he blurted out.

Skyfire immediately abandoned what he'd been working on. Cold determination filled his spark, replacing the bubble of panic that wanted to form. He pulsed over a silent demand for answers, and Starscream immediately complied.

"Something surprised him, something bad. He's… afraid and worried about something, but there's no pain." A pause, and Starscream let out a long, shuddering breath. "He's starting to calm down now. The shock is fading, but he's still scared." Starscream looked up, meeting Skyfire's optics. "We have to find him."

Skyfire nodded. Anger at whoever had blindsided Skywarp wanted to claw its way forward, but that would have to wait until after they found the Seeker and made sure he was safe. Starscream shared the sentiment, though he didn't control his fury half as well. Two things occurred to Skyfire in quick succession. He wanted to keep Starscream as far away from whatever had scared Skywarp, and the labs, where few Autobots ever wandered, were among the safest places for them.

"You stay here," he ordered, glancing around. Wheeljack looked concerned over what had so clearly bothered them, but he wouldn't come closer if they didn't invite him.

Starscream looked scandalized at the idea. "Like _slag_ I am!" he said indignantly.

"I'm not letting you put yourself in danger. Stay here," he repeated.

Starscream squared his shoulders and refused to back down. "_No._" He continued, "You're wasting time, and I can find him quicker than you."

Irritated, Skyfire admitted he was right. Starscream was in that mood where nothing less than a cycle long argument-or maybe some physical restraints-would dissuade him, and the trinebond could lead him their faster than anything else.

"Just don't do anything stupid," he conceded. Better to have Starscream beside him than sneaking after him, after all.

"Do I ever?" Starscream asked, already halfway towards the door. He didn't even take the time to gloat over winning the exchange.

They moved quickly through the hallways, which were more crowded than they usually preferred. Starscream, following the bond, guided them forwards, past the rec room and down another main corridor. He skidded to a stop in front of a small offshoot of a hallway and would have ran down it if Skyfire hadn't put an arm out to hold him back.

Skywarp was halfway down the mostly empty corridor, wings flush tightly against the wall. Leaning over him with one hand pinning him in place was the red Twin, Sideswipe. The plating of his arm just barely brushed against Skywarp's wing; it was all the contact needed to prevent him from warping away. Sunstreaker was a step behind his shoulder, arms crossed and glowering at the Seeker. Sideswipe's lips were moving, murmuring something too low for Skyfire to hear. From the look on Skywarp's face, it wasn't very pleasant.

"Hey!" Skyfire shouted, hurrying forward. He kept Starscream behind him, protected.

Both Twins looked up, surprise flitting across their faces, and Skywarp took advantage of their distraction to slip out from under Sideswipe's arm. He rushed to Skyfire's side, where he hid beside his trineleader in the shadow of the Shuttle's bulk. Skyfire didn't look away from the Twins, but he brushed a reassuring hand against Skywarp's wing, which pressed into the contact.

"What's going on?" he asked the Twins pointedly. He spared a glance at Skywarp, looking for any injuries. The Seeker looked shaken but unharmed.

Sideswipe pasted on a large, fake smile and stepped away from the wall. His hands fell loosely to his sides and, if it hadn't been for the way he slid closer to his sibling, Skyfire might have thought him relaxed.

"Nothin' big. Me and your friend were just having a bit of a talk, nothing more," he said. His smile widened, as if trying to prove his sincerity. It didn't work.

Skyfire didn't deign that with an answer. He kept staring, meeting the Frontliner's optics head on. He used his size to full advantage this time; he towered over the Twins, as he did with most mecha, and he wouldn't be intimidated into breaking first. The silence dragged on.

Eventually, uncomfortably, Sideswipe's grin started to wane. He crossed his arms defensively and took another step closer to his twin.

"Hey, s'not like I did anything wrong! I didn't even touch the guy!" He huffed. "It was just a friendly warning, that's all. Most people aren't as nice as we are 'bout having strangers around!"

There were a lot of things Skyfire would have liked to say to that. Most of them involved threats, insults to the Twins' intelligence, or something similarly unwise. He swallowed them all back and simply said, "Leave us alone." Authority rang in his tone.

Sideswipe's face hardened at the order, losing the last of its false friendliness. "Ya know, if you stick around, you better get used to being watched," he said. It sounded like a warning. Or maybe a threat.

Furious, Starscream stepped forward. "That wasn't _watching,_" he spat. "You had him pinned against the slagging wall!" He looked to be gearing up for a full, confrontational rant and might have stalked right up to the other mecha if Skyfire hadn't held him back. Enraged, he kept straining against Skyfire's arm, but Skyfire wasn't about to let him go.

A hand touched the back of his other arm, and Skyfire looked back, surprised. Skywarp was staring at him, hand still outstretched.

"It's fine," he said. "Let's just go."

His eyes darted back to the Twins and back. Quieter, he said, "I really don't want to see what'll happen if we're part of a fight."

Skywarp had a point. They didn't know how the Autobots dealt with conflicts, though he was betting they had something better than the "take bets and see who survives" strategy the 'Cons had favored. Starscream, reacting to Skywaps tone and likely some soothing spark pulses, stopped struggling against him and reluctantly subsided .

Much as he liked the idea of having a locked door between them and the rest of the Ark, turning away now tasted too much like running away. He did it anyway. The Twins didn't follow them.

* * *

><p>…<p>

They ran into Thundercracker on their way back to the rooms. He was moving swiftly in their general direction, and his face slumped in relief when he caught sight of them.

"What happened!" Thundercracker asked, falling into step beside his trinemates.

Without slowing down, Skyfire said, "He was cornered by the Twins in an empty hallway."

Thundercracker's face hardened, and he shifted closer to his trinemate. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Skywarp nodded. "Yeah. I'm ok. They didn't actually do anything, just..." He trailed off with a noncommittal shrug. Then there were more Autobots in their hallway, so they didn't push him to elaborate.

Skyfire didn't relax until they were all back in their quarters and the door had closed behind them. Thundercracker immediately turned to his trinemate, inspecting him for any endured the scrutiny for a good few kliks before pushing away, optics downcast in what looked almost like embarrassment.

"I'm _fine,_" he said, backing away another few steps. "They barely even touched me. I was just slagging careless and let them get the drop on me. "

"Tell me _exactly _what they did," Thundercracker ordered.

Skywarp shrugged. "It's nothing important, I just-"

Thundercracker actually _growled _at that. "Don't try to just brush this off," he rumbled. "We're Trine. I _felt _what happened and how panicked you were." He took a deep breath. "You scared the _slag _out of me."

Skywarp seemed to shrink down on himself. "Sorry,"he muttered. "I'll be more careful next time."

Thundercracker sighed, the anger melting away, and stepped forward, bridging the gap between them and putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not angry at you," he said, trying for reassurance. "I just want to know what happened and what we can do to stop it from happening again."

Skywarp hesitated then nodded, leaning into the contact. "I was just exploring the ship a bit, and the Twins managed to catch me off guard." He glanced down, abashed. "I freaked out a bit. 'Cause it's the _Twins, _y'know, and I didn't have any weapons or anything to fight back if they tried something." He made a face at that, rubbing longingly at his shoulder where one of his internal guns used to fold away. "They got close enough I couldn't warp away without taking them with me, but that was it. The rest of it was just normal threats, and not even all that creative ones either. The whole I'll be watching you thing and some stuff about what they'd do if we betray them."

He sounded almost too blasé about that, as if he were trying to rid his hands of the whole situation as quickly as possible. Skyfire was immediately suspicious-not of Skywarp intentionally hiding something, but of him neglecting to mention something out of embarrassment or a disregard for details.

So Skyfire directly asked, "Did it look like they were going to harm you?"

Skywarp immediately opened his mouth, but Thundercracker cut him off before he could say anything. "_No,_" he said. "Actually give it some thought-was their any indication that the two of them were planning to get physical?"

This time Skywarp paused, biting his lip in thought. "I don't think so," he finally said. "I mean, if they catch us doing something stupid like sabotaging something or picking a fight, they'd jump in enthusiastically, but they won't do anything unprovoked. Might try to make life hard for us if they feel like it, but..." He snorted humorlessly. "S'not like a couple more insults or some spite will really bother us any."

This time, the rest of them accepted his judgement. Skywarp, while oblivious to many things, was generally good at understanding people. More than that, any Decepticon was well versed in being able to tell when a confrontation would turn violent. If he said the Twins weren't looking to damage him, then he was probably right.

With a soft groan, Thundercracker walked over to one of the seats, pulling Skywarp along behind him. He slid into the chair and was soon joined by the other three. Now that their immediate worry over the Twin's actions was taken care of, they could relax, but they weren't done yet.

"So what do we do about this?" Thundercracker asked.

"We could bring it to the Officers," Starscream suggested. "Let them know some of their mecha are out of line."

Skywarp snorted at that. "What, you want to the Prime and say some of his soldiers were being mean to us?"

Skywarp had a point-they really didn't want a reputation for running to the Officers over every little thing, and that was assuming the Autobots bothered to do anything-but what the Twins had done stretched a bit beyond just 'being mean.' Empty threats meant little, but the Twins had their reputation for a reason.

"Jazz swore we'd be safe here," Skyfire said. "If someone is trying to break that promise, he needs to be informed."

"And he'd _better _fix it," Starscream interjected, poking his head over Skyfire's arm. Skyfire smiled at him, hoping his faith in the Autobot sense of justice was justified but not willing to rely on it. In the end Skywarp had been the one to see the Twins, so he'd have the best feel for what they were dealing with.

This time, when he spoke, he aimed his question at Skywarp. "What do you think we should do then?" he asked.

Skywarp bit his lip, thinking. "For now? Just… let it go, I guess. S'not much we could do, and I really don't want an actual feud with the Twins by starting something serious." He shrugged, leaning forwards. "We can just keep an eye on them and stick together more." His tone sharpened. "And if they do try something ugly, then we deal with it however we need to."

Looking around their group, Skyfire saw only agreement. They'd ignore what the Twins had done this time, but they wouldn't forget. Threats were acceptable-expected, even-so long as it didn't turn into unprovoked action.

And if they were wrong, if the Twins really were about to become a threat… Well, they'd just have to find a way to defend themselves. Sure he'd try the Autobot's official channels first, but even without weapons or allies, they were very far from helpless.

* * *

><p>...<p>

They were more careful after that. None of them left their quarters alone, and they moved as a full group whenever possible. Against their protests, Skywarp and Thundercracker started walking him and Starscream to and from the labs, unwilling to let them wander alone. Of course, they all keep an optic out for the Twins or a repeat performance, but they didn't catch a glimpse of the red or yellow Frontliners in the next few cycles. For the most part, it was just business as usual.

Getting energon never stopped being its own ordeal, but it did get better. After the first handful of times, most of the Autobots seemed to get used to their presence. They never stopped being watched everywhere, of course, but conversations no longer died an immediate, dramatic death as soon as they entered a room. It was an improvement.

Once, as they were pouring the energon, a flutter of wings caught his optic, and he turned to see the Aerialbots trying valiantly not to look at them. Skydive glanced up while he was still looking over and immediately bowed his head back down in what looked like embarrassment.

Nudging Starscream, he motioned towards their observers. Starscream's wings stiffened, and he quickly glanced away. He snatched his cube from Skyfire's hand and immediately started pushing his way over to their table, moving so fast Skyfire nearly fumbled his own energon cube trying to catch up.

Skywarp, wondering what all the fuss was about, searched the room as he rushed to keep up. He gasped when he caught sight of the Aerialbots' table.

"Aww, look at the widdle Seekerlings," he gushed, face breaking out into a wide grin. "Think they'll let us say hi if we promise to play nice?"

Starscream grumbled something without looking up and kept moving towards the table. Skywarp followed behind him with his neck craned backwards to look at the younglings, and even Thundercracker wasn't immune to their draw. He kept surreptitiously glancing backwards, a small, soft smile on his face. They reached the table, and Starscream thumped down in his regular seat, pulling his chair out almost violently.

Skywarp slid into the seat next to him and poked Starscream's wing. "Hey, I thought you'd be more excited 'bout seeing some younglings!"

Starscream didn't bother replying. He glared down at his cube, completely ignoring his trinemate. Thundercracker deduced the reason behind his reticence before his trinemate did.

"What did you do," he asked Starscream, more exasperated than upset.

Scowling, Starscream looked away. Skyfire answered for him. "The Aerialbots were on guard duty the cycle Starscream escaped. Before that, he'd spent several cycles just speaking with them, as a Neutral Seeker to a group of Seekerlings raised almost exclusively by grounders." He glanced back over at the table and the younglings so ardently pretending not to have noticed them. "They have not spoken since the incident."

"Oh. Well, slag, that's awkward," Skywarp said, sneaking another glance back at the other table. His look was more disappointed than happy this time.

They fell into an awkward silence after that as Starscream's foul mood seeped over into their sparks. The Aerialbots were an invisible burden on the conversation, weighing down on them all and stopping any topic before it could get started. Finally, Skyfire couldn't stand it anymore.

Setting his cube down, Skyfire turned back to Starscream, whose mood immediately worsened with the attention. "You should speak with them," Skyfire advised. He didn't have to say who.

"I'm not gonna apologize," Starscream muttered, still staring into his cube. A twinge of guilt passed across his spark regardless; even if he wasn't willing to admit it, Starscream still regretted how his burgeoning friendship with the Aerialbots had ended. Skyfire sighed. Starscream was just as stubborn as he remembered.

"You don't have to," Skyfire tried. "Just give them an explanation; you owe them that much, at least, for escaping under their watch." He smiled. "Besides, they're gestalt. They'll understand Trinebonds better than almost any other mecha."

Instead of answering, Starscream took a long swig from his energon cube. Skyfire waited for him to finish, unwilling to let the delay put him off. After several long moments of being stared into submission by all three of his companions, Starscream groaned and sunk lower in his chair.

"I'll think about it," he conceded.

That was the best Skyfire was going to get out of him. Letting the subject drop, Skyfire turned to the rest of the table and mildly asked Thundercracker about how his interactions with the crew were going. Eventually, Starscream started to relax again, and life continued on.

* * *

><p>...<p>

"Hoist has requested your presence at the build site of the energon production facility. He wishes to discuss some of your proposed changes."

Perceptor stood there, waiting, having cornered the two flyers as soon as they entered. His face was almost disturbingly blank of emotions; Skyfire couldn't read him at all, and he struggled to see whether his neutral expression hid any anger or annoyance at their presence. He couldn't find anything.

Starscream perked up at the idea of getting out of the Ark, but Skyfire hesitated. "Is that… allowed?" he asked. Sure, Jazz had promised them airtime to fly, but he'd assumed that meant being in a highly controlled area, far away from any human or Autobot structures. It seemed like a stretch to assume that would apply to something like this.

Perceptor tilted his head. "The facility is located well within Autobot territory, and Jazz has already extended his approval. We would quite enjoy your input. Hoist and Grapple in particular have expressed an interest in hearing your suggestions first hand."

It took a moment for Skyfire to remember who Hoist or Grapple were. They certainly weren't frontliners or anyone Skywarp or Thundercracker had complained about. A memory, old and half-corrupted with age, came forward, and he remembered. They were builders, and famous ones at that; he'd overheard the Constructicons talking about them and their techniques.

Of course, Starscream wasn't worried about what new Autobots they'd be meeting. He had more interesting matters on his mind.

"Would we be able to fly over?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes."

His grin widened. "When can we leave?"

A small, satisfied smile passed over Perceptor's face, there one moment and gone the next. "The next excursion is planned for the beginning of first shift tomorrow," he said. "Hoist has offered to meet you here to journey over as a group. I'll let him know to expect your presence."

With that, he gave them a brief, perfunctory nod and left them alone again.

Neither he nor Starscream could really concentrate for the rest of the solar cycle. Starscream was humming from energy just at the prospect of going on another flight, and Skyfire wasn't much more composed. They still managed to get some work done, but they were relieved when the shift ended and they returned to their quarters.

Skywarp and Thundercracker were less than pleased when their request to join the other two on their voyage was denied. Officially it was because the Autobots wanted to keep the excursion small and efficient, but Skyfire could read between the lines. They didn't want all four of them out together; it was too much of a flight risk. Understandable, if quite annoying. Skywarp didn't stop complaining until the moment they left the room and, if the bonds were held open wider than usual, nobody said a word.

* * *

><p>…<p>

The flight over to the site went on without a hitch.

Skyfire reveled in the sensation of flight and the sense of pure freedom that came with it. It had been far, far too long since he'd last gotten a chance to enjoy the skies. Beside him, Starscream twirled in tight acrobatics to offset the boredom of having to fly slow enough for the grounders to keep up.

Three trails of dust formed below them: the two Autobot builders, Hoist and Grapple, and a guard. Even their maximum speed meant a lazy, relaxed journey for the two flyers. They all slowed down as they grew close to their destination and, as the grounders neared, he and Starscream came down for a soft landing.

Informative as the schematic had been, it was nothing compared to seeing the structure first hand. The small tower jutted up from the ground, camouflaged into the ground through its paint job but quite obvious through its sheer size. It was easily twice as tall as Skyfire and wide enough to hide a mech behind. The outer plating was smooth to the touch, though an entire stretch of the outer coverings had yet to be installed. The inner machinery was protected by clear plastic tarps in those areas. To his optic, the tower looked mostly complete, but he knew just how many adjustments still needed to be made.

After their first introduction to Grapple-which had largely consisted of the Autobot huffing and completely ignoring them-he'd had his doubts about working together, but the two Autobots soon proved him wrong. Both mecha turned out to be paradigms of professionalism with only minor quirks.

Grapple entered a foul mood whenever anyone suggested that something he'd designed was lacking and complained bitterly about any changes, but he never lashed out and his actual work was flawless. He never voiced the comparison, but Skyfire found himself reminded of Starscream when he was in a snit: you just needed to know how to tread lightly around his sore spots.

The day passed quickly as they worked, replacing parts and rewiring entire sections of the tower. Soon enough, the sun began its slow descent and the sunlight began to dim. Efficient as they'd been, they'd barely managed to make a dent in their proposed changes. As the Autobots called for the end of the work day, Skyfire stared down at the unfinished section he'd been working on in displeasure.

Hoist, who'd been working on the same side, caught his conflicted look. "Don't worry, we'll all be back next orn," he said, patting Skyfire on the back with his free hand. "The Prime just has standing orders to remain near the Ark after nightfall. It keeps us all close at hand, just in case."

Then, reluctantly, they all packed up and began the slow trip back to the Ark.

* * *

><p>…<p>

The flight back to the Ark went as smoothly as the one over, and the second day went the same way. It wasn't until their third visit that everything went wrong.

They'd been working peacefully at upgrading the wiring systems when Hoist tilted his head at some incoming transmission.

"Oh dear. Well, that's unfortunate," he said. Mild annoyance threaded his tone, which was enough to get Skyfire's attention from where he'd been working nearby.

Skyfire set down the welder he'd been using and stood up. "What?" he asked. Worry already started to curl in his chest. This was the first time someone had opened a 'com channel to off-site, and it didn't look like good news.

His suspicions were confirmed when Hoist said, "Red Alert has detected some Decepticon activity at the border near here."

With that, Hoist reached into his subspace and removed an impressively large gun, almost as big as his arm. It was obviously well cared for and powerful enough to punch through most mecha's armor.

Skyfire's first thought was for Starscream. It only took a pulse over the bond to send Starscream rushing over to his side, hands still coated with grease from the machinery.

"What's wrong?" he asked, optics darting between the two of them.

"Decepticons."

Starscream froze as a soft noise of surprise escaped from his lips. His stress levels immediately skyrocketed.

Skyfire continued, trying to be reassuring though he didn't feel it. "They've only been spotted at the border. They may not be coming here"

"But they probably are," Starscream retorted without relaxing an iota.

It was true. The collection tower was the only interesting thing in this area of the territory. Maybe the 'Cons were just nearby by chance, but he doubted it.

"The Prime has dispatched backup. They should arrive shortly," Hoist cut in. His voice was still disturbingly unconcerned about the impending attack, as if he were merely discussing an unpleasant turn in the weather instead.

Starscream wasn't falling for it. "Before or after the Decepticons do?" he asked suspiciously.

With a loud click, Hoist locked the last part in place and started testing the balance. "After, most likely. Quite unfortunate."

As soon as Hoist got his gun set to his liking, he reached back into his subspace and pulled out a smaller, though still high-quality, blaster. He tossed it to Skyfire.

"Best you have something to defend yourself with," he said with a rueful smile.

Skyfire automatically thanked him as he investigated the weapon, getting a feel for its weight and estimated what kind of plating it would be able to damage. He doubted it would be able to punch through any enforced armor, but it would do well against thinner plating like joints.

Hoist then turned to Starscream and asked, "Do you know how to wield a blaster?"

Mutely, Starscream shook his head.

"Mm. Shame. You should learn; it'll serve you well in the future."

With that, Hoist got the far-off look of someone engaging in a 'com call. Skyfire let him be. Instead, he glanced around them, searching for some hiding spot or better vantage point, but it was no use. The only landmarks were the stout mesas that dotted the area, but they would be useless as shelter. Their natural coloring would stand out too much against the dull browns of the dirt and climbing them would onl them easy targets on the flat, open shelves. They were best off amid the tentative shelter of the energon tower, where they would at least have the Autobot's protection.

He was debating whether just taking off would be worth it-they'd be out of the line of fire, but who knew how the Autobots would react-when Hoist spoke up again.

"You now have clearance to fly straight back to the Ark while we engage," he said. "I suggest you hurry."

Skyfire had pulled Starscream away and they were halfway transformed by the time Hoist finished speaking. Starscream, quick on the uptake as always, was in the air before he was. Skyfire put on as much speed as his engines were capable of, but Shuttles weren't made for speed the way Seekers were. Even at Skyfire's fastest, Starscream could fly circles around him. Instead of rushing to the Ark like he should, however, Starscream was sticking right by his side, ignoring Skyfire's attempts to get him to fly ahead.

They didn't get far.

Sunlight glinted off metal below them as something moved through the valleys splitting the ground. Flairing a warning through the bond, he drew Starscream's attention to it. He fervently hoped it was the Autobot backup Hoist had mentioned. Of course, they couldn't be that lucky.

He wasn't even surprised by the first volley of energy bolts that rose up to meet them. They swerved sharply left to avoid them. Fear spiked in Starscream's spark, mixed with the heady rush of adrenaline. Skyfire widened the bond, trying to reassure Starscream with his presence, but it also allowed his own alarm to cross over too.

The second volley came from above instead of below, catching him off guard and singing his armor before he could adapt. He had to swerve sharply to the left to avoid a direct hit, which forced him away from Starscream. Immediately he tried to return to Starscream's side, but the fire didn't let up and he was forced further away from his bondmate

Looking back, Skyfire found that he had two pursuers on his tail. Skyfire recognized their frames and paint jobs immediately: Thrust and Ramjet, Seekers from the second ranked Trine-Command Trine now, he supposed. Their remaining trinemate, Dirge, was the one chasing Starscream.

For the first time, Skyfire cursed the Autobots for deactivating his weapons. He couldn't fight back! All he could do was dodge the energy bolts and attempt to shake the other two Seekers off his tail. He didn't hold much hope of doing so. They were Seekers, he was a Shuttle; he was built for endurance and strength, not speed or agility, which Seekers had in spades. For now, he could only stall.

The noise from below abruptly doubled, then tripled. The distinctive sound of laser fire and screech of colliding metal sounded, but it wasn't aimed up at the flyers. No, something had happened down below.

The Autobots had arrived.

It didn't much help them in the sky-Skyfire regretted the Autobot's dearth of experienced fliers-but it helped to know there were allies below now, insomuch as the Autobots could be called allies.

His frame was starting to throb from the stress of the sharp turns and maneuvers he was putting it through, but he grit his teeth and kept going. He was only delaying the inevitable, and he knew it. Shuttles weren't built for intense maneuvering, and he wasn't fast enough to outrun the Seekers.

He couldn't stop the cry of pain as someone managed to get a solid hit on his thruster. Shockingly intense pain radiated up his entire leg. Blinded by pain and missing a thruster, he quickly lost control of the flight. Immediately, Skyfire dialed back the pain sensors in his leg, but by then it was too late. He was already falling.

Starscream wordlessly called out to him, but his own attacker kept him too far away to help.

Instead of fruitlessly trying to regain control of the fall, Skyfire braced himself for impact. He managed to transform back to root mode before hitting the ground, but just barely. The transformation caught oddly on the damaged parts and almost stalled for a moment before the trapped part jerked free with another sharp burst of agony. The impact was still strong enough to send him to his knees and grant him several new dents. Hissing from the pain, he stood back up, barely able to put weight on his damaged leg. Diagnostics quickly told him what he'd already suspected: he wouldn't be able to fly again before getting repairs. He was trapped.

Starscream was pulsing worry and an emotion worryingly close to panic over the bond. Skyfire did his best to block his own pain, instead sending the Seeker a flare of reassurance back. A sudden thread of determination came to life, and Skyfire looked up to see Starscream starting to angle towards him despite the other Seeker's behind him.

Skyfire opened up a 'com channel. "No!" he cried, "Stay in the air; I've learned how to fight on the ground, I can handle myself."

It was only half a lie. He technically knew how to fight while grounded, but he wasn't a match for any real fighter who'd managed to survive the war for so long. His best bet was to delay until backup arrived. _If _backup arrived, a cynical voice in his head whispered, but Skyfire ignored it. Surely the Autobots would come to push back the Decepticons. In any case, nothing would have stopped Skywarp and Thundercracker from coming to their trinemate's aid once they felt the battle start.

Starscream wasn't happy with the order. The com channel filled with creative obscenities, but Starscream veered back into the sky nonetheless. Even with the three Seekers now pursuing him, Starscream was safest in the skies. Skyfire just had to trust that Starscream was fast enough to stay undamaged; he was too far away for even the small blaster Hoist had given him to be useful.

As Starscream sped up, Skyfire forced his optics away from the sky. He'd managed to crash away from any Decepticons, but that advantage wouldn't last for long. Anyone who'd been keeping an eye on the skies could have followed his trajectory. He needed to move-to find at least some rudimentary protection.

He'd crashed in the open, uncovered dirt that covered most of this section of the planet, but a tall crop of organic flora-trees-stood behind him. Keeping an optic out for any attackers, Skyfire limped his way towards the inadequate shelter, gritting his teeth against the pain. He did what he could to dull the pain sensors and stem the energon loss, but he couldn't spare the time to do any actual repairs.

Skyfire stumbled to a stop as he reached the edge of the treeline. There, he turned back towards the open sky. He should keep moving-he wasn't nearly far enough away to be safe, and the trees didn't offer that much protection-but he couldn't tear his optics away from Starscream's form still weaving across the sky. He was almost painfully outnumbered now, three to one, but somehow still managed to hold his own.

Starscream had no combat experience whatsoever and hadn't even been outfitted with real weapons—which they would have to fix—but he managed to made up for it with his speed. He was the fastest Seeker Skyfire had ever met and was easily able to outmaneuver his attackers. But, natural ability and skill couldn't outlast megavorns of combat experience forever. Eventually, inexorably, one shot managed to connect.

The laser fire scorched across the length of Starscream's wing, bubbling paint and scorching metal. Skyfire felt Starscream's pain as if it were his own.

It was only a glancing blow-hadn't even pierced through the thin metal of his wing-but Starscream had never been hit like that before. The sudden shock of the pain alone was enough to corrupt his trajectory, but Starscream also didn't have the experience to fly with wing damage. He wavered in the sky, losing most of the grace that had kept him alive in the precious kliks that followed.

That should have been the end of it. Skyfire watched the other Trine closing in with panic breaking in his chest, waiting for the shot that would send Starscream spiraling down into his own crash.

It didn't come.

The shots still went wide or connected in little more than glancing blows. Starscream was able to reestablish his equilibrium and find his rhythm again, and the chase continued as if it had never been interrupted. Skyfire could only stare, astonishment and overwhelming relief warring in his spark at the unexpected turn of events.

The reason came easily, once he thought about it. He supposed this was what passed for mercy among the other Trine. Trinebonds, after all, were still sacred among Seekers. Starscream's survival and the reformation of the bond was a miracle by anyone's standards, and even the Conehead's weren't jaded enough to take advantage of that. Of course, Skyfire had no doubt that, had it been Thundercracker or Skywarp up there, they wouldn't have hesitated with the blow, but they drew the line at attacking Starscream in truth. Skyfire felt his respect for the other Trine go up a notch. Not much-they'd still shot him out of the sky and were chasing his bondmate-but a little.

A battle cry split the air, and Skyfire started and looked backwards with a jolt. He recognized that voice. Sure enough, a black and purple frame came barreling across the sky. Fury was written in every line of his frame as he flew towards the mecha attacking his trineleader.

Skywarp didn't bother transforming into his alt mode. He didn't need to. The surprise of his arrival allowed him to get the jump on Thrust. Timing his landing perfectly, Skywarp collided with Thrust and latched onto his frame. He clung on relentlessly as Thrust tried to buck him off. Skywarp's hands started working, maneuvering under armored platings and pulling out fistfuls of wires. Thrust's resulting screech of pain echoed over the battlefield, and it wasn't long before he lost control of the flight and started to tailspin into a crash.

Letting go, Skywarp abandoned his opponent to the crash. Dirge and Ramjet were busy with Thundercracker, whose arrival had been overshadowed by Skywarp's, which left the purple Seeker free to rush to Starscream's side. Starscream transformed back into the more compact root mode as soon as he was free. He was still favoring his right side as he hovered in the air, but otherwise he seemed fine.

Skyfire stood below them, transfixed, as Skywarp flew. He only snapped out of it when Skywarp put a hand on Starscream's uninjured side, mouth moving as he said some sort of reassurance. Blaster fire sounded on his left, closer than he'd expected, and Skyfire was abruptly reminded that they were still in the middle of a battlefield. He opened a 'com channel to Skywarp, which was immediately accepted then hijacked by Starscream.

"Get him _out _of here!" Skyfire ordered Skywarp. Even with his trinemates' protection, they were still in the middle of a battlefield and anything could happen.

Starscream yelped when Skywarp adjusted his grip on his shoulders and tried to pull free. Entering the conversation, he said, "Slag, no, I am _not _leaving without-"

He was cut off as Skywarp teleported in a burst of purple smoke. A tight knot of worry in Skyfire's chest immediately loosened. Starscream was going to be in an absolutely foul mood for being forced away, but at least he was safe. Already he could feel Starscream's frustration and helpless worry nudging him from across the bond, but he regretfully pushed it away and narrowed the connection. He didn't have time to worry about him now.

With one last glance up at the sky, where Thundercracker was still weaving around the other two Seekers, Skyfire retreated further into the cover of the trees. Thundercracker could easily hold his own against the Decepticon Seekers-the blue Seeker had, after all, held his position as Air Commander for megavorns, and his remaining trinemate would be back soon as backup. Now that Starscream was safe, Skyfire could focus on his own organic brush was taller than Skyfire and the leaves helped shield his frame, but he was too big to move with any kind of stealth. His frame made the branches crack and complain as he brushed against him, and his paintjob stood out obtrusively among the greens and browns around him.

The trees thinned up ahead, and Skyfire stopped as he saw movement beyond the branches. Blaster fire lit up the ground and, from here, he could hear the crash of frames moving around and colliding into others. He caught a glimpse of red as some mech ran in front of him. As quietly as he could, Skyfire backed away. He wanted to get away from the fighting, not move towards it.

Nobody seemed to notice him. The distinct sounds of battle slowly faded behind him, but Skyfire still couldn't relax. He kept moving, carefully keeping watch for any sign he was getting close to another mech.

Sunlight flashed off something above his head, catching his attention. Skyfire backed up, scanning the treetops for anything unusual. At first, all he could see was the thin curtain of green leaves that made up the canopy. He only noticed the change on his second pass of the same area.

The smooth, asymmetrical lines of leaves and bark was interrupted by the sharp angles and bright colors of a mech. A small avian frame was perched among the upper branches. Skyfire didn't even have to see his face of sigil to know it was Laserbeak, one of Soundwave's little spies. The symbiote was staring straight at him, head cocked to one side. He didn't flinch when Skyfire met his sharp gaze, and Skyfire was the first to look away, inwardly panicking.

Whatever Laserbeak knew, so did Soundwave.

He had to get away. His leg prevented him from moving quickly, but Skyfire limped forward as fast as he could without losing track of the symbiote. Laserbeak made no move to follow. He stayed where he was, perched on his branch, and calmly watched Skyfire stumble away. Disturbed, Skyfire watched Laserbeak disappear behind the canopy.

He didn't like this.

He was unarmed, damaged, and all too vulnerable. He never caught site of Laserbeak or any other symbiote again, but he could've sworn he was still being watched.

He reached the edge of the small grove of trees, where the ground returned to the dull, flat browns of before. A large mesa of dirt rose up beyond that. Skyfire hesitated, uncertain about going forward. So far as he could tell, all the fighting was behind him and nobody would see him if he made it behind the more reliable safety of the plateau, but he'd be completely exposed in the space between.

The battle was still going strong, far too close for comfort; it could easily spread over to his location. Any loyal Decepticon would take the chance to attack him, and Skyfire's flimsy blaster would be near useless against a focused attack. At least the mesa would put something solid between him and the 'Cons.

He went for it.

Later, he'd look back on that moment and wonder if there was anything else he could have done. Maybe if he'd been faster he could have made it, or more clever and thought of a better alternative. Or even before that, he might have flown faster and held out until Skywarp and Thundercracker arrived. He might have even bowed to caution and refused to work outside the Ark at all. So many different decisions, and changing even one of them might have led to a different outcome. But he'd made his choices, for better or for worse, and all the doubts in the world couldn't change them.

It was over as soon as Soundwave started to track him. Maybe even before that, when he became the first mech to abandon the Decepticons in a dozen megavorns.

Either way, it all led to this one moment, when he was halfway to the tenuous safety of the mesa and something heavy landed loudly behind him. He hadn't even heard the sound of its flight over the background roar of the battle. The sound was soon accompanied by the loud, distinct whirr of a charging weapon, one that Skyfire recognized.

Offlining his optics, Skyfire just stood there for a long moment. His chest felt hollow, his spark sluggish. He was too terrified even to panic. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, ignoring the way it shook. Then he turned around.

He expected to see the large silver frame that stood there, bristling with weaponry. His fusion cannon glowed with charge on his arm, close enough to easily punch through his armor and deactivate him where he stood.

Megatron.

The warlord grinned at him, a fierce, feral thing that made Skyfire's spark quake in fear.

"Skyfire," he purred. "I've been looking for you, traitor."

Terrified, unarmed, and alone, Skyfire said nothing.

* * *

><p>~.*.~<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN<strong>: And a cliffhanger! One I've been working towards for months :). Next chapter should be on time, (This one was almost up over a week ago without the Twins, but balancing out the Autobot's reactions ended up too important to ignore, though it meant a rather eclectic chapter)

Random update about last month, but I did manage to reach my NaNoWriMo goal of 30,000 words, which I am ridiculously excited about. I have to admit, my main character's voice is based off of Starscream.


	24. Consequences

Tangled Destiny

Ch 24: Consequences

…

They were alone.

The sounds of battle were far away now, inaudible save for the rare moments when the wind blew the faint echoes of clashing metal over to them. It was a quiet sound, almost lost behind the dull roar that filled his audios as panic lapped at his spark.

He fumbled for his 'com, thoughts immediately turning to the Seekers, but the link fizzled away into nothing. He recognized the distinct feel of a jammed channel and didn't try again. Nothing short of a professional and a full orn of decryption would be getting through one of Soundwave's blocks. The Warlord standing in front of him wasn't about to give him a breem, let alone an orn, to spare.

Starscream was hammering at his spark, demanding answers. Skyfire sent him a strong sense of urgency, mixed with a healthy dose of fear, before narrowing the bond and ignoring Starscreams frantic attempts to widen it again. He could only hope that Starscream managed to get a message to his trinemates or even the Autobots. His transmitter might be blocked, but he was willing to bet that the dampening field didn't cover the rest of the battlefield.

Skyfire eyed the empty space and tentative shelter of the nearby plateau, wondering whether he'd be able to make it. Megatron caught him looking.

"Try to run, and I'll kill you where you stand," he rumbled.

One glance at Megatron's fusion cannon, fully charged and crackling with excess energy, was enough proof that he was telling the truth. It would only take a klik for Megatron to aim and fire, not nearly enough time to find cover.

"And if I stay?" Skyfire asked. He almost didn't recognize his voice, hoarse as it was from fear.

Megatron's optics danced with a dark glee, drinking in his terror. "Then you'll deactivate fighting instead of running like a coward," he said.

Skyfire shuddered, but he stayed where he was. Fighting would at least buy him time, hopefully enough for help to arrive. Surely someone had to have noticed Megatron leaving the battlefield. Surely Thundercracker and Skywarp would come looking for him soon. They had to. So, with shaking hands, Skyfire took out the blaster and held it unsteadily in front of him,

Megaron took out his energon sword.

It gleamed wickedly in the bright sunlight. Skyfire had only seen the sword once before, back when Megatron had still been a Gladiator. It was a weapon crafted for slow, showy fights, not the chaos of true war. Its presence did not bode well for the fight ahead.

Then Megatron adjusted his grip and charged, and Skyfire didn't have the time to think about anything besides defending himself.

Nothing less than a full-powered cannon blast would get through Megatron's regular armor; a small blastor wouldn't even leave a mark. So Skyfire aimed for Megatron's face, for the delicate optical crystals and the more sensitive plating there. Megatron dodged his first shot. The second managed to scour his cheek, leaving a trail of heat-warped metal behind. He didn't have time for a third shot before Megatron was within range and he had the sword to worry about.

Skyfire stumbled backwards to avoid the first slice. The tip of the blade passed dangerously close to his face, filling Skyfire's field of vision with sharp metal for a long moment. The next swing was lower, and it caught Skyfire's upflung arm, leaving a long, thin trail of energon in its wake. The cut stung in the open air, and the sword came around for another try.

Each blow sent Skyfire stumbling further and further backwards as he struggled to dodge. He lost his blaster soon enough, knocked out of his hand by a particularly strong hit and lost somewhere in the dirt. He wished desperately that he had some sort of blade-a sword, a knife, anything to block a blade. Instead, he could only avoid the sword as best he could. Which, in the end, wasn't very well at all.

Yet, no matter how close Megatron came or how badly Skyfire misread a strike, none of the damage was serious. It was all nicks and shallow slices, deep enough to sting but little else. Despite the panic clouding his processer, Skyfire knew what that meant: Megatron was toying with him. Drawing it out, as if he was back in the Gladiator rings and putting on a show for an invisible audience. The Warlord seemed to take a sadistic joy in every drop of energon and gasp of pain he drew.

Eventually, Megatron grew impatient with his little game. He followed his strike past Skyfire's outstretched arm and under his guard, smoothly stepping into the Shuttle's blindspot. Before Skyfire could recover or even turn around, Megatron had brought his sword back around and slid the tip neatly into the back of Skyfire's knee.

The blade slid in easily through the thinner armor of the joint, cutting through metal and circuitry alike. It scraped against a major strut as Megatron pulled it back out, and Skyfire found his voice again. A wordless cry of pain left him as his leg gave out entirely and he collapsed to the ground, clutching at the limb. Fluid spurted from the broken lines, trickling over his hands and puddling beneath the plating. Skyfire immediately started forcing sensor blocks into place, and the pain slowly ebbed into something manageable.

Dirt crunched underfoot as Megatron came closer. One thick foot entered Skyfire's field of vision, and Skyfire glanced up to find Megatron staring disdainfully down.

"Stand," he ordered. "I'm not done with you yet."

Skyfire's hands balled against the ground as he glared upwards. In that moment, he could almost forget his pain and terror. Humiliation gave rise to fury, which burned everything else away in its ferocity. Fury at himself for being too weak. At the Autobots for overlooking him and the Decepticons for distracting them. Most of all, he was furious at Megatron for forcing him into this poor charade of a fight-for needing to humiliate him before striking the killing blow.

It was that anger that gave him the strength to stand. His leg violently protested the movement and threatened to collapse under him, but Skyfire locked it in place. Displaced gears grinded loudly against each other, and more fluid seeped past the breaks that self-repair was slowly starting to patch up.

But he made it.

He stood.

This time, he didn't wait for Megatron to attack. He charged the Warlord instead. Megatron seemed amused as he raised his sword, obviously expecting Skyfire to dodge. He didn't. Instead, as the sword arced towards him, Skyfire raised one thick forearm to block it as he continued straight at the Warlord.

Skyfire didn't have a weapon, but he did have interstellar-grade armor. The blade bit deeply into his arm regardless, where it lodged inside the plating, but the rest of the armor held. He didn't lose the limb. The pain was immediate and intense, but it bought him the opening he needed.

He doubted anything would feel as satisfying as when his fist sank into Megatron's face.

Skyfire put the full weight of his frame behind the blow, just as Thundercracker had taught him, and Megatron's head snapped back. Skyfire could feel his faceplate denting under his fist and, for the first time since the attack began, Skyfire's face twisted in a bitter smile. He tried to follow it up, to press the advantage, but Megatron hadn't survived the Gladiator Pits for nothing. Surprise had allowed Skyfire the first blow; it wouldn't give him a second.

Megatron actually roared in anger as he retaliated. Instead of trying to yank the sword free from where it was still stuck in Skyfire's armor, the Warlord released the hilt and lunged forward. His fist caught Skyfire in the stomach with enough force that he doubled over, and Megatron followed up with a blow to his head that sent his audios ringing and his gyros reeling. His optics must have blacked out for a moment, because the next thing Skyfire knew he was back on the ground, looking down at the dull brown and mottled green of the dirt.

For a long moment, he couldn't even move as his sensors recalibrated. He'd barely managed to make it to his hands and knees before something heavy plowed into his side, sending him sprawling onto his back. One heavy foot thudded down in the center of his chest, pinning him in place, and Megatron's frame filled Skyfire's vision. Skyfire lurched upwards in a desperate attempt to free himself. Then he froze as cold metal touch his neck, close enough that each breath left thin marks in the plating.

"Pitiful," Megatron spat. "All this trouble over someone so weak."

Terrified, Skyfire said nothing. Even if he'd wanted to-and was willing to risk enraging Megatron further-he doubted he'd be able to speak without inadvertently slitting his throat wide open.

Megatron didn't seem to need his input anyway as he continued to rant. "A scientist. A medic. Not even a real fighter, and yet you are the reason my Command Trine betrayed me." The blade dropped down another inch, cutting deeper into the first layer of plating, before Megatron stopped. "You're not worthy of a clean death," he snarled.

An endless pause and, instead of pressing down, the blade hovering over Skyfire's throat lifted up. It didn't move far, but Skyfire could at least breathe without slicing his throat open.

"I've heard that medics value their hands more than anything," Megatron continued almost conversationally, as if he hadn't just been a moment away from murder. Skyfire might have thought his anger had dissipated if it hadn't been for the mad glint that remained in his optics. "All that specialized sensors and equipment, tucked away in such a small, vulnerable place."

The tip of the sword trailed down Skyfire's shoulder to hover over the wrist of his damaged arm. Skyfire, still frozen in fear, could only track the movement of the blade with his optics. Megatron brushed the blade against the palm of the hand, which twitched feebly in response. The limb didn't seem to be working quite right anymore, not after Megatron's sword had severed so many connections.

"Pity I don't have the time to do this properly," Megatron mused, almost to himself, "but it'll do."

Skyfire had a moment of perfect clarity on what Megatron was about to do. He jerked upwards against Megatron's weight, a frantic denial on his lips, and his free hand lunged towards the weapon. He was too slow.

Megatron brought the sword down, severing Skyfire's wrist in one clean strike.

* * *

><p>...<p>

Skyfire knew pain. He'd been stabbed and burnt, bitten and blown up over the course of the war. He'd connected to mecha in unimaginable agony and watched their spark guttered out

It had been nothing like this.

His hands held more sensors than the rest of his frame, save his wings, combined. And all of them had just been severed at once. The shockwave from that one moment paralyzed his entire frame in pure agony. He tried to scream, but his vocalizer glitched. All that emerged was a static ridden whimper.

He jerked his arm back, away from the sword. His arm came easily. His hand stayed where it had fallen, on the other side of the blade. Skyfire couldn't tear his optics away from it. The tips of the fingers were already starting to gray. He shuddered and offlined his optics, but it didn't matter. The image of the dead grey metal marching down his hand remained. Megatron's weight on his chest stopped him from curling around what remained of his arm, but he tried anyway. He tucked his freely bleeding wrist against his side, attempting to stem the flow of energon with the plating there. His remaining hand came over, cradling the limb as if that would help with the pain. It didn't.

Megatron watched him struggle with a vindictive smirk, drinking in every soft whimper of pain and gasping breath. Soon enough, once Skyfire had recovered enough that coherent thought was again possible, Megatron reached over and began prying his remaining arm away from his torso with the tip of his sword.

Skyfire's spark ran cold, then exploded in terror.

Not again. Please, not again.

He struggled as best he could, but it was only a matter of time before Megatron had the limb spread out and pinned to the ground. This time, Megatron placed the tip of his sword above the knuckle of one finger instead of the entire wrist.

"How many pieces will I have to remove before you break?" Megatron hissed. "I want to hear you beg."

Determined as Skyfire was, he didn't think Megatron would have to wait long. Already he had to stop the desperate words from pouring off his tongue. The only thing that held him back was the knowledge that, whatever he did or said, Megatron wasn't going to stop. Begging would only spur him on-give him what he wanted. Of course, that was hard to remember as the sword grew closer.

Megatron shifted his grip on the handle, preparing to strike, and Skyfire offlined his optics, unable to look. The blade started to slide in, breaching the first layer of plating, when Skyfire heard a very familiar sound above the static filling his audios: the loud crack of displaced air, followed closely by a very familiar warcry. Then Megatron's weight on his chest disappeared, the blade jerked free and clattered to the ground, and Skyfire onlined his optics.

Megatron had been knocked several steps to the side by several tons of raging Seeker. The purple smoke from his teleport hadn't even had time to fade, and it colored the entire scene with a strange haze.

Skywarp.

Thank Primus.

He'd managed to latch onto the plating of Megatron's back and was brandishing a large energon dagger in one hand as he hung there. Skyfire didn't question where he'd gotten it, whether he'd picked it up during the battle or somehow sneaked it past the Autobots. He was too overwhelmingly grateful that Skywarp was even there, armed and furious.

Twisting, Skywarp managed to bring his elbow back, and he brought his arm down with enough force to sink the small blade into the crook of Megatron's neck. The Warlord roared with pain and, jerking, finally managed to dislodge the Seeker. Skywarp went flying, and his dagger went with him, sending a trail of energon arcing through the air. He managed to get his feet under him before he hit the ground and immediately had to dodge Megatron's furious charge.

Gasping, curled around his bleeding arm, Skyfire watched the fight unfold. Skywarp seemed so small next to Megatron's bulk, but he was fast. The small blade helped, giving Skywarp an edge as he twisted around his opponent's furious attacks. Skywarp was good-fantastic, really-but he was still a Seeker. His frame just wasn't built for ground combat, and he was up against one of the best fighters alive. And Megatron wasn't pulling his punches anymore-he was out for energon.

Skyfire couldn't just lay there, helpless, and hope the Seeker won. So, with his useless arm cradled against his chest, Skyfire slowly, painfully forced himself back to his feet. His remaining arm shook and almost gave out when he put weight on it, but he made it, swaying slightly where he stood. Pain still roared up his arm in steady pulses, but he didn't let it consume him again.

As he stood there, wanting to do something to help, Skyfire was forced to admit something. Like this, he wouldn't be able to win a fight against an unarmed Cassette, let alone the Warlord himself, and he knew it. He didn't dare join the fight like this, unarmed and too unsteady to even throw a punch. He would only be a liability. So he could only stand there, shaking lightly, and watch the fight, searching for anything that might help.

If he could only grab onto Skywarp, the Seeker could teleport them free… But Megatron seemed to have realized that as well; he wasn't giving Skywarp a chance to break away. His fists kept the Seeker close and distracted, locking him in the fight. Skywarp was already starting to lag against Megatron's assaut; his moves grew more and more defensive until he was struggling to keep up with Megatron's fast pace. Then he fumbled a block and, scrambling to recover his equilibrium, missed the following blow.

Skyfire tried to call out a warning, but he was too late. Megatron's fist landed square in his chest, sending him flying with a shout of surprise. Skywarp slammed into the solid rock of one of the cliff behind him wing first. The leading edge splintered, and Skywarp crumpled to the ground. The Seeker lay there for only a moment before trying to struggle back to his feet, but his movements were jerky and uncoordinated. Skyfire recognized the signs of minor processer damage; it would take Skywarp time he didn't have to recover his equilibrium. He probably wouldn't even be able to teleport like this.

Megatron seemed to recognize the signs as well. He was in no hurry as he sauntered over to where he'd thrown the Seeker. On the way, he absentmindedly stooped to pick up his discarded energon sword, shaking off the coagulated energon that still colored the blade.

Immediately, Skyfire knew that Megatron wasn't going to toy with the Seeker like he had with Skyfire. Skywarp wasn't some no-name, inexperienced grunt who'd survived more by luck than skill. He was a veteran and a former Officer-an actual threat. Megatron wouldn't give him a chance to get away; he was heading over to deactivate Skywarp once and for all.

Skyfire couldn't let that happen.

His knee cried out when he stepped forward, but he kept moving. He didn't stop until he was standing between the two mecha, blocking Megatron's path. His entire frame was burning from the accumulated damage, and his broken knee barely supported his weight. His stump was tucked uselessly against his side and still sluggishly dripping energon. He could barely stand, let alone fight. None of that showed on his face as he unflinchingly met Megatron's optics.

"Skyfire, don't you dare," Skywarp ordered from behind him. "Get out of the way." His speech was slightly slurred; another mark against him. Skyfire ignored him.

Megatron, surprisingly, stopped his advance instead of swatting Skyfire out of the way. It wouldn't have even taken any effort.

"You are a fool," Megatron mused. His sword was still held loosely in his hands, like an afterthought.

"Maybe," Skyfire conceded. "But I'm no coward."

Nothing on Earth or Cybertron could convince him to step aside and watch while someone deactivated one of his Seekers. He might be slagging terrified, but he would not step aside. Even if it only bought Skywarp an extra breem, it would be worth it.

Megatron had just taken another step forward when Skyfire noticed a strange noise getting steadily louder. His optics flickered upwards, and Skyfire realized what it was: engines. Seeker engines, to be precise, most likely belonging to the small blue speck moving rapidly towards them.

Thundercracker. Finally. It had taken him long enough to answer the call of his Trinemates' sparks. But, fast as Thundercracker was, it would still be several kliks before he arrived; a lot could happen in that time. Skyfire swallowed nervously and turned his optics away from the fast growing speck. Megatron had seen him too. Their optics met, and Skyfire knew he wouldn't have the kliks to spare.

Megatron attacked so fast Skyfire almost didn't see him move. He heard the sound of moving metal, saw the blur of motion, and reacted. Skyfire managed to get his arms up to protect his major vitals-his neck and spark chamber-the way he'd been taught, but that wasn't what Megatron was aiming for. Instead, the sword swung lower, catching him below his arms.

The blade slid in through the plating near his waist with enough force to break through the thick armor and keep going. Its path curved upwards, through his side and towards his chest before stopping, buried in the thickest armor that protected his spark chamber.

There was no pain then, not yet anyway. Just the strange, burning pressure against his internals and the sight of Megatron's optics slowly filling with triumph. The Warlord was just an arm's width away, close enough to touch if his arms hadn't been frozen in place.

Megatron didn't have time to pull out and get another hit in. Thundercracker got there first.

With a furious scream, Thundercracker dove at the Warlord. Megatron turned to meet him with his fists raised, dodging out of the path of Thundercracker's first high velocity dive-bomb and managing to clip his wing on the second try, forcing him to the ground. Then the fight began in earnest.

Skyfire noticed the burgeoning fight only peripherally. He sank down to his knees, staring down at the broad expanse of metal protruding from his chest. One shaking hand reached down to brush against the place where the blade disappeared into his chest. It came away stained with energon.

That's when the pain hit.

He swayed on suddenly weak limbs, almost falling over before catching himself. The sword was still sticking out of his chest-the sword was still inside him, Primus-and landing on it wouldn't be a good idea. He had a sudden, overwhelming urge to yank the blade out of him-Primus, please, just get it out-but even in his pain-addled state he knew just how bad of an idea that was.

He only snapped out of the haze when a hand landed on his shoulder. Skyfire jerked with surprise, which sent a fresh wave of pain coursing through his frame. He had to offline his optics to control his reaction, and the hand retracted with a muffled "Sorry." He recognized Skywarp's voice even through the pain. It still took far too much effort to online his optics again.

Skywarp was kneeling beside him, his horrified optics locked on the blade in his side. His hands hovered over the sword, knowing it needed to be removed but too terrified to actually touch anything. His optics darted back up then softened in relief when he saw the Shuttle was coherent again. The Seeker seemed steady on his feet again. His optics still shone too brightly, a sign of some lingering damage, but the worst of it seemed to have been repaired.

But behind Skywarp's worried face, Skyfire could see the fighting frames of Megatron and Thundercracker. Megatron was just as frighteningly competent a fighter as he'd been a breem ago, and even the fury that drove Thundercracker's blows couldn't bridge the gap in skill for very long. He needed help. He needed Skywarp.

"Go," Skyfire bit out. "Help him-I'll be fine."

It was only half a lie. The sword seemed to have missed any major parts at least, but he was losing energon at a frightening rate. Regardless, there was little Skywarp could do to help him, not like this, with the sword making teleporting away too risky. Besides, Thundercracker was in far more immediate danger from Megatron.

Torn, Skywarp glanced between them before reluctantly turning away. "I'll be back," he whispered, and he was gone.

Skyfire could hear the sudden uptick in noise as Skywarp joined his trinemate in the fight, but just then lifting his head to look seemed to take an impossible amount of energy. Every time he tried to concentrate, his focus seemed to drift away, and even in his disoriented state he knew that wasn't a good sign. Skyfire reached out, looking for something to hold onto, and he found the bond, still closed to only a sliver of its normal self. It only took a moment to widen the bond again and let Starscream back in.

The reaction was instantaneous. Panic clawed at him, assaulting his spark with its strength and overwhelming his thoughts. He very nearly toppled over again and only barely managed to stay upright, though it was getting hard to remember why he needed to. He exhaled, and the sound transformed into a soft whimper of pain. Something of that must have gotten across to Starscream, because the Seeker immediately dialed back his presence.

Skyfire latched onto his bondmate's spark, borrowing his strength and vitality as much as he could. Even with the bond open as wide as it could go, it could only help so much. His processer started to drift away until Starscream brought him back to himself with a sharp, frantic demand. Coherency returned with a jolt and a sickening twist of fear. He couldn't let himself drift away. Not here. Not now, when the battle still raged so close. He straightened from where he'd been slumped down near the ground, forcing his processer to concentrate.

The blade was still stuck in his side. First things first, it needed to come out. Even thinking about touching the blade made the agony in his side flare up, but he couldn't just leave it in there, preventing the damaged lines from sealing off. So, reaching down, he grasped the weapon and bit back a scream as he started to pull.

* * *

><p>…<p>

He got it out.

Later, he wouldn't remember how. The memory was just a disjointed jumble of intense agony, determination, and Starscream driving him forward, but he did it. He got it out.

He even managed to activate the emergency programs that would seal off the rest of the broken lines before collapsing, offline.

* * *

><p>...<p>

Consciousness swam in and out. He did what he could in his more lucid moments, activating any useful programs . Most of the time though, it was all he could do to curl around Starscream's spark and accept the panic-tinged comfort he gave.

Then Thundercracker was there, hovering above him. His form wavered in and out of Skyfire's field of vision, and every so often Skyfire could feel hands on whatever sensors were still functioning properly. Eventually, Skywarp joined his trinemate as well. They were saying something-to him or each other, he couldn't tell. Static filled his audios so that only a handful of disjointed words made it through. A bolt of panic cleared the fog away for a moment as he remembered Megatron, but the Warlord didn't seem to be nearby. The clearing was empty again.

He was lying in something wet and faintly sticky. Energon. A distressingly large amount of it covered the ground below him, and more streaked his side and limbs.

He tried to sit up once. He didn't make that mistake again.

Some time later, Skyfire faintly sensed someone new thump down beside him, but it was in one of the worse moments, where he couldn't even seem to online his optics through the pain. Even through the haze though, Skyfire most certainly felt the way his main medical port was pried open and the strong presence that bloomed in his processer. Automatic safeguards had his processer sluggishly trying to respond to the invader, but they were easily brushed aside. Skyfire didn't even have the energy to care.

He was glad he hadn't fought when he recognized the distinct feel of a Medic's touch running through his processer, taking control of his sensor net and activating new programs. Skyfire blurrily onlined his optics again, ignoring the stab of pain the action elicited, to see a red and white blur hovering over him. Ratchet. Of course it was-what other medic would have bothered?

His optics didn't seem to want to focus, and they soon flickered back offline against his will. He managed guide Ratchet to some of the more important codes, but that seemed to be the extent of his remaining strength. He could feel himself drifting away. The pain and all sensation from his frame faded until he was only holding onto Starscream's spark.

Then there was nothing at all for a long time.

...


	25. Recovery

Tangled Destiny

Chapter 25: Recovery

...

Someone was shouting.

It was the first thing that registered to Skyfire's sluggishly onlining processer. The voice was muffled, as if it were traveling through viscous liquid, but was rapidly growing sharper as his audios cleared. He tried to focus on it, but his thoughts seemed to slip away as soon as they formed. Medical overrides locked him out of large swaths of his processer, dulling his thoughts and coordination. Pain still managed to leak through, strong enough he almost wished he could fall back offline, but something kept him from slipping away.

Confused, _hurting, _Skyfire tried to say something, but his vocalizer didn't respond right. Instead of a question, only a soft, staticky whine of pain left his lips. It was lost under the surrounding din, which continued uninterrupted. It took some effort, but Skyfire eventually managed to online his optics and turn his head towards the noise. A pair of wings, hiked high in agitation, shielded him from the rest of the room. He watched the wings sluggishly for a moment, coherent thought still far beyond his lagging processer, as they quivered angrily. The bright red and white pattern was as familiar to him as his own, and the shouting told him everything else he needed to know.

Starscream was upset.

He was funneling all his anger and worry at someone else in the room, shouting at them and—most likely—insulting them in increasingly obscene ways. Muddled as Skyfire's processer was, he couldn't understand the words, but he knew Starscream well enough to trickled through the haze as Starscream's voice rose higher, and the first clear thoughts bubbled up from the depths of his processer.

Bad things happened when Starscream lost his temper. Things Skyfire was supposed to stop before they got too out of hand.

Moving his hand was far harder than it should have been, but Skyfire managed to reach up long enough to brush against the back of one agitated wing. "Calm down, Star," he managed to murmur softly, pushing _peace _and _calm _across the bond. "'S alright."

Starscream froze at his touch. His wing trembled, twitching back against his hand, before jerking away as he swung around to stare at the Shuttle with bright, wild optics. The bond was immediately flung wide open and Starscream's spark crowded his own, worried and hopeful and still so _terrified._

His first words were lost to incoherency as Starscream tripped over the syllables, or maybe that was just Skyfire's audios glitching again. Then he took a deep, shuddering breath, reset his vocalizer, and leaned down close to Skyfire's helm.

"You are not allowed to deactivate," Starscream ordered. His voice was as rough as it always was when he was angry, but the bond was a maelstrom of intense, jumbled emotion. His hands shook as he reached down, clutching at Skyfire's arm. "You hear me? _You are not allowed to leave me!_"

The world was starting to get fuzzy again, and not even Starscream's intensity could hold him there for much longer. "Won't," Skyfire managed to say. "Swear it." When words failed him, he sent his sincerity over the bond. Starscream made a soft, pained sound and held on tighter. Skyfire returned the gesture as much as he could, but it wasn't long before he slid back into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>…<p>

He drifted.

Somewhere in between awareness and stasis, Skyfire waited. With his frame and processer throttled by suppressor programs, it was easy to let the world slid past him. Pain danced out of reach as well, intense enough that Skyfire shied away every time he drew too close to consciousness. Time passed-he couldn't say how much-and gradually the pain began to fade.

A second spark was there-Starscream-comforting him and urging him onward. The longer Skyfire resisted the more insistent Starscream grew, and eventually Skyfire gave in and let himself be pulled onward. Consciousness came slowly upon him, and Skyfire groaned as the lingering pain swelled.

He blearily onlined his optics, blinking the static away, to find bright red optics staring intently down at him. "Starscream," he murmured, smiling faintly. Starscream didn't return the gesture. He looked rather upset, actually—almost angry, though Skyfire could feel the relief swirling below the resentment.

"Don't you _ever _do that again," he ordered, poking Skyfire lightly in the chest.

Skyfire blinked up at him in confusion. "Do what?"

"Tell Skywarp to teleport me away in the middle of a battle," he hissed. "You almost deactivated without me there!" Indignant anger flared in his spark as he leaned forward. "Promise me you'll _never _do that again,"

Skyfire's memory banks were as slow as the rest of his processer, but it didn't take long at all to bring up the memory of the fight, including the way Starscream had resisted being taken to safety. The memory alone was enough to shock his processer back to full awareness, clearing the cobwebs from his thoughts. Even now, looking back, Skyfire couldn't regret what had happened.

He looked away, unable to meet Starscream's optics. "I can't," he said quietly. Then he steeled himself for Starscream's inevitable response.

Starscream shot up, knocking his chair back with a clatter, and slammed his hands down on the berth. "Slaggit, Skyfire, you nearly deactivated, and I couldn't do a single slagging thing about it! _Promise me!_" His voice trembled, then broke, on the last word. Wordlessly, he pushed what he'd felt across the bond-his worry and helplessness, then a spark-deep, all-consuming _terror _that still lingered.

"Star..." Skyfire whispered uselessly. He wished he could say yes. He really did. But he knew that, whatever Starscream said or felt, Skyfire could never willingly put him in danger. Just the thought of having Starscream anywhere near Megatron made his spark quake with horror.

He reached over to stroke one stiff wing, or tried to at least. His arm was oddly off balanced, and it didn't even reach the Seeker's plating. He offbalanced when his hand seemed to pass straight through Starscream's wing. Looking down in surprise, Skyfire found empty air where his hand was supposed to be. His right arm ended, quite abruptly, at his wrist.

"Oh," he breathed, more surprised than anything, though a dull horror was slowly creeping into his spark. He'd almost forgotten-Megatron's little game. How could he have forgotten that? Now that he was paying attention, he recognized the deep throbs of pain that indicated significant repairs had been performed, with just enough suppressor programs active to take the edge off. He tried to clench his not-hand, as if that would magically make it reappear. Instead, it just sent a bolt of pain up his arm as sensors misfired. His wrist twitched weakly.

He would have tried again, but a smaller hand settled on his arm, just above the damage, and carefully pushed it back down to the berth. Starscream. The Seeker was staring at the missing limb, jaw clenched and optics bright with emotion. Even after Starscream tore his eyes away and stared downward, his hand remained a reassuring weight against Skyfire's forearm. Skyfire tried to focus on that instead of the way the med-bays bright lights seemed to shine off the new, temporary plating that had been expertly wielded over the gaping hole where his hand should have been.

Finally, Starscream reached out, turning Skyfire's helm away from the injury. Starscream was visibly struggling to reign in his anger. His wings were still arched high and tight, twitching every so often, but the indignant burn of his anger had dimmed at the sight of the injury.

He hesitated, then haltingly said, "Thundercracker picked up the… the rest of it before he came back to the Ark, but several of the systems had already degraded. Ratchet's replacing what he can before reattaching the rest."

Skyfire said nothing.

Starscream shuffled awkwardly. "I'm sorry," he tried. The words fit oddly in his mouth, still thrumming with lingering frustration. "Ratchet said it should be done within the next solar cycle or so."

He fell into an awkward silence when Skyfire didn't respond. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, mouth opening and closing in aborted attempts at speech as his free hand fluttered around the berth. Several long moment passed before Skyfire mustered up the strength to say anything.

"How bad was the deterioration?" Skyfire asked quietly.

Starscream's hand tightened on his wrist. "Bad," he said. "A… lot was completely unsalvageable, especially the more delicate mechanisms."

Meaning all the medical and scientific systems, half of which had been created during the Golden Age. Now, they would be almost impossible to recreate. Without much hope, Skyfire asked, "Can Ratchet replace them?"

Starscream's face twisted as anger boiled up again. "They said they didn't have the _parts._" He spat the last word out in disgust, shooting a glare over at the far corner of the room. Judging by the side door there, Skyfire was willing to bet Ratchet's office lay beyond it.

His wrist twitched again, throbbing, and suddenly, Skyfire really didn't want to be laying on the berth anymore. He wanted to move, or at least to sit up-to do _something _with his frame other than laying there uselessly. So, careful not to put any weight on the unhealed stump, Skyfire pushed his arms behind him and tried to leverage himself upright. A searing pain spread across his chest in response, and he gasped.

Starscream looked up at the sound and sprang to his feet. "Ah, slag," he cursed, rushing to help Skyfire lay back down on the berth. "No, no, don't try to get up. You'll hurt yourself. Ratchet's still finishing up the other repairs."

The rest of the repairs. _Pit._ He'd been so distracted by the loss of his hand that he'd barely even thought about the rest of the damage. He lay there, panting and waiting for the pain to fade, after the unpleasant reminder. If the damage was still this bad after he'd been brought out of stasis…

He needed to see it_._

Flat on his back, Skyfire couldn't see anything past the thick armor of his upper chest, so he tried to prop his head and shoulders up with his elbows, ignoring the way it made the pain flare up again. Nothing tore, so he kept going.

Starscream hissed and tried to stop him. "What are you _doing,_ you'll only make it worse!" he exclaimed.

"I want to see," Skyfire forced out through teeth gritted against the pain.

Starscream stopped trying to push Skyfire back down, and he gained a few more inches. "What?"

"The damage-I want to see the rest of it." Megatron's sword had come frighteningly close to causing fatal if it accomplished nothing, he had to _know _what damage had been left behind_. _

Starscream wavered, his wings fluttering in worry and uncertainty. So Skyfire tried again. "You can't stop me from just sitting up."

Starscream gave his frame a very unimpressed once-over. "Right now, I probably could."

"_Star!_"

He huffed "Alright, _fine,_" But he hesitated, eyes darting down Skyfire's frame. "It's not pretty though"

He didn't expect it to be. He knew exactly how bad the damage had been. He still kept going. So, with Starscream's frame at his side holding him steady, Skyfire slowly, painfully managed to leverage himself upright. Pain throbbed throughout his chest and echoed up his spine, but Skyfire kept his vocalizer silent. He didn't want to risk Starscream changing his mind.

He only made it halfway up before Starscream forced him to stop again and settled in half-behind him, propping him up. Somewhere along the line, Skyfire's optics had offlined, and he had to activate them again before he could look down. The damage was just as bad as he remembered and looked all the worse in the harsh light of the med-bay.

A large section of armor across his torso had been completely removed, leaving the underlying wiring and struts open to the air. The new welds stood sharply against the old parts, forming an almost perfectly straight line where the sword had cut. The edge of his fuel pump peeked out from behind its thick web of tubing, just barely above where the damaged stopped. So close...

He reached down, hand hovering just above the damage. He traced the broken and repaired lines without touching, felt the the tender places where the very struts had needed to be welded back together. It was good work, but there was so, so much of it.

Eventually, when his arms started to shake from the strain of propping himself up, Starscream helped him back down to the berth. "Skywarp and Thundercracker should be here soon," he said softly. "Ratchet's making them stay back in the room, but I let them know you woke up."

He hesitated. "Don't think we're done talking about what happened in the battle," he warned, but it lacked any real heat.

Skyfire tried to smile. "Of course. When have you ever been willing to let an argument go before winning it?"

That earned him a small half-smile from the Seeker, and they sat in silence until, at some unspoken signal, Starscream's optics darted to the door, "They're here," he murmured, sounding relieved. He stood up then paused, glancing back at Skyfire one last time. "We'll get them back for this," he said, voice low and deadly serious. "I swear it."

Before Skyfire could ask what he meant, Starscream stepped away, moving to meet his trinemates as they entered through the med-bay doors. Skywarp and Thundercracker swept into the room, pausing only to greet Starscream on their beeline to Skyfire's berth.

"Skyfire! You're awake!" Skywarp shouted, grinning wildly as he half ran over to the berth, dodging various machines and detritus as he went. "You scared the _slag _out of me!" His grin only faltered slightly when he got a good look at the unfinished repairs, but it soon returned full force.

Skyfire returned the smile as best as he could. It felt strange on his face-forced-but if the others noticed they didn't comment on it. Both Seekers grabbed their own chairs and pulled them up next to Skyfire's berth, close enough to touch. They settled in, obviously planning on staying for a good while yet. The nice thing about talking with Skywarp was that the Seeker knew how to fill up the silence. He didn't even have to say anything as Skywarp rambled on, a distraction that only half worked. The Seekers stayed for cycles, until Ratchet had to forcibly eject them from his med-bay.

* * *

><p>...<p>

Starscream wasn't there the next solar cycle. He wasn't there when Skyfire onlined in the morning to an empty med-bay or when Ratchet arrived and started taking care of his other patients on the opposite side of the room. He wasn't there when Ratchet replaced the armored plating on his chest, newly reforged with only a long, thick scar to show where the sword had split the metal, or when Ratchet informed him that his replacement hand would be ready the next solar cycle. He wasn't even with his Trinemates when they came tumbling into the med-bay, having been waiting outside its doors until the astrosecond Ratchet opened the room to visitors.

Skyfire could still feel him on the other side of the bond, but his presence was muted. Distracted. He barely even reacted when Skyfire reached out to him, curious and confused and ever so slightly hurt. Even as Starscream tried to reassure him-and Skyfire could feel how sincere his regret was-impatience lurked under it. Skyfire let him get back to work.

Turning to Skywarp and Thundercracker, Skyfire asked, "Where is he?" He didn't have to say who.

Skywarp let his helm thump to the berth with an exaggerated groan. It was Thundercracker who answered. "He's in the labs, engrossed in some project," Thundercracker said. He cracked a faint smile. "You know how he gets."

Strange. "What's he working on?" Skyfire asked. What he really meant was, _What could possible be so important that he's in the labs _now_?_

Skywarp popped his head up again, still scowling. "Dunno. He won't tell us. And believe me, I've tried to find out."

That was… disturbing. On several different levels. After yesterday, he wouldn't have thought anything less than a crowbar would have pried the Seeker away from the med-bay, and now he was holed up in the labs, away from all his bondmates. Something was going on with him.

"I should go talk to him," Skyfire mused, almost to himself, and tried to sit up. His self-repair nanites had been working in overdrive to integrate all the new repairs, but he still needed Thundercracker's help to make it vertical. Even then, he needed a full klik to recover before the throbbing pain faded and he could speak again.

When he looked up, Thundercracker was staring at him in concern. "You're not going anywhere until Ratchet's cleared you and you can at least stand up unaided."

"But-"

Thundercracker cut him off. "Even if I helped you-and I won't, not like this-do you really think you'd be able to make it across the Ark without tearing something important?"

Thundercracker was right. Skyfire needed at least another solar cycle, maybe two, before his nanites had reinforced the repairs enough for him to move around freely.

"Keep an optic on him until I'm repaired?" he asked.

Skywarp snorted. "Believe me, we will. We had to finagle Starscream our entire childhood, remember? I know just how much trouble he can get into unattended." He sighed. "I just… wish we could actually understand what he was working on. It would make keeping him out of trouble a Pit of a lot easier."

Thundercracker nodded his agreement, and they lapsed into silence. Skyfire tried halfheartedly to get Starscream's attention again, not really expecting it to work. It didn't. Starscream responded with a curt acknowledgement and only took the time to make sure Skyfire wasn't hurting before shooing him away again. With a frustrated groan, Skyfire turned back to the room.

"Any other news?" he asked them, wondering how the rest of the Ark had responded to the attack.

Skywarp answered him. "A lot of the Autobots were freaking out after the Decepticon attack. Something about how the Decepticons rarely come that far into their territory," he said, straightening up. "One good thing came out of it though: the battle helped convince at least some of them that we're not spies. It's a bit less tense now, which is nice. We've been able to get energon without it feeling like half the room wants to kill us"

"That's good," Skyfire said. Annoying that it had taken the Decepticons trying to deactivate them to convince them, but still good. "Only some of them?"

Skywarp made a face. "There's some holdouts. Once a 'Con, always a 'Con and all that slag. At least they're in the minority,"

He smiled grimly before clapping his hands together and forcing his expression into something more cheerful "Onto something less depressing! What else is there..." Skywarp said, kicking his legs back. A moment later, he perked up, and his fake smile softened into something real. "The Aerialbots have been asking for you. They were super worried after the fight."

"They're speaking to us again?" Skyfire asked, surprised. Last he'd heard they were still upset with them over Starscream's escape. When had that changed?

He nodded. "Yep. Since the battle, actually." he said, grin fading slightly. "I 'ported Starscream into the rec room back then, and turns out the Aerialbots were waiting out the fight there too. They've been following him around ever since."

Unspoken went the fact that the young Seekerlings would have been there as Starscream experienced the rest of the fight secondhand. Including Skyfire's near-deactivation. No wonder the young Gestalt had latched on afterwards.

"I bet you've been enjoying seeing the new generation," he murmured, remembering how excited Skywarp had been about their creation and how disappointed he'd been when he'd heard the Seekerlings were avoiding their group.

"_Pit _yeah! You wouldn't believe how excited they were when..." And off he went, rambling about his first meeting with the younglings and how he couldn't wait for the chance to fly with them. Thundercracker smiled at him indulgently, and eventually Skyfire started to tune him out. Inevitably, Skyfire found his thoughts drifting back to Starscream, wondering what he was doing and how much trouble he was about to get himself into. His legs itched with the desire to go join him in the lab, but he was still too weak to goT his was his second solar cycle awake in the med-bay with nothing to do while he healed, and he was already thoroughly sick of it.

The longer he forced himself to sit still, the more Skywarp's cheerful chatter seemed less comforting and more… grating. Almost overbearing, if he was honest with himself. He wasn't even sure why or what had changed.

Skyfire clenched his fist, shifted on the berth, but the growing sense of claustrophobia refused to dissipate. The Seekers noticed his discomfort, and Thundercracker reached out, putting a comforting hand on Skyfire's arm. Skyfire stiffened instead, flinching away.

"I think… I'd like to be alone for a bit," Skyfire said quietly. He kept his optics trained on the plain metal of the berth, unable to meet the Seekers' concerned gaze.

Even without looking, he could feel their confusion. "Are you alright? Any pain?" Thundercracker asked, voice ringing with concern. His optics darted down to the weld marks on Skyfire's chest, the empty wrist resting on his lap. Skyfire immediately shifted his arm away, out of sight.

"I'm fine. I just…. don't feel up to the company right now," he said.

Silence. Then Skywarp reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against the plating just above Skyfire's damaged wrist. Skyfire jumped, jerking away. Skywarp looked sparkbroken "You know we don't care about that, right?" he asked

"Of course." Even to himself, his voice sounded hollow.

When he didn't say anything else, the two Seekers exchanged a long, meaningful glance and slowly stood up, giving Skyfire plenty of time to call them back.

"Are you sure?" Skywarp asked, one last time, voice small.

Skyfire felt like a horrible mech for it, but he nodded. "Yes."

He was unprepared when Skywarp darted in for a quick hug and mumbled "Feel better" before stepping and turning towards the door. Just before they left, Thundercracker paused. "'Com us if you change your mind," Thundercracker said. Then he stepped out into the hallway, letting the door closed behind him.

The resulting silence was little better. He still hesitated over calling the Seekers back, not wanting the company either. Eventually, he managed to drift off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

><p>…<p>

True to Ratchet's prediction, Skyfire was informed his replacement hand was ready the beginning of the next solar cycle. Starscream showed up for the operation, looking harried and refusing to answer any of Skyfire's questions. He stopped pushing when Ratchet grew close enough he had no choice but to overhear, having grown no closer to figuring out what was so important that Starscream had stayed away for an entire solar cycle.

Ratchet got one good look at Starscream, perched beside Skyfire's berth with a stubborn set to his jaw, and said, "Pick a berth behind me, sit down, and _stay _there until I tell you otherwise."

Starscream puffed up in indignation and took a step forward, wins flared. "Hey, you don't-"

Ratchet cut him off before he could even get started. "My med-bay, my rules. Bondmate or not, I will kick you out if you start to interfere with an operation."

Starscream spent several long moments glaring at the medic, debating whether or not he was being serious, before deciding that, yes, Ratchet would go through with the threat. Ratchet completely ignored him as he prepared his work station. He didn't even flinch as Starscream huffed loudly, stomped over to the closest free berth, and fell into it with a loud clang.

As Ratchet grabbed Skyfire's broken wrist and opened the medical access panel to begin working, Skyfire got his first good look at his new hand. His first thought was that it was _ugly_. At first glance, Skyfire could tell how much thinner it was than it was meant to be. All of his specialized equipment was missing after all, degraded from the time it had spent without energon. All the medical sensors to help with diagnosis and surgery. The extra sensors to make his oversized fingers more precise and integrated chemoreceptors for lab work. Gone.

The fact that Ratchet had salvaged his old hand for this only made it worse. He recognized the outer plating and base materials as his, but that only made the differences more obvious. He looked away, shuddering, and tried not to think about all that he'd lost. That Megatron had stolen from him.

He could feel Ratchet fiddling with his sensory information just before his arm went numb from his elbow down, and Ratchet got to work. Skyfire offlined his optics as Ratchet set about removing the temporary plating and welding the new connections into place. A slight tugging sensation radiated up his arm as he heard the dull whine of machinery activating. His experience meant he knew exactly what Ratchet was doing, but that didn't mean he wanted to see the surgery performed on his own limb.

He almost didn't notice Ratchet finishing the first stage of the reattachment until the medic tweaked his coding, and sensation began to creep back down into his limb again. Skyfire tried to move his fingers, and he felt something respond. He looked down to find the new hand in place but still half disassembled, with the plating peeled back and attachments still loose. He could see the struts through the tangled mass of wires, some of which led into his wrist and others that were still clamped off to the side, arching into empty air.

"The sensors need to be active for the next part so the neural net will reintegrate properly," Ratchet said, in the long-suffering tone of a mech used to answering the same questions from mecha who had no idea how a med-bay functioned.

"I know," Skyfire said. He didn't think Ratchet even heard him, engrossed as he was in beginning the next stage of the repair.

He sat patiently as Ratchet had made and tested each new connection, as each new link clicked into place with a sharp pop of pain and the bare hand came slowly back to life. He tried to be grateful just to have the limb back, regardless of what was missing, but he couldn't, not yet. Right now, the hand was just that-a half-gutted part. It might have originated from his own limb, but it wasn't _his._ Not the way it was supposed to be.

After Ratchet finished with his hand, he moved on to the rest of his frame, testing the older welds. His fingers danced lightly over the newly reforged plating, testing its integrity, before opening it up with the ease of experience and continuing his inspection on the internal. After a few kliks, he closed it back up and took a step back.

"Don't push it, and the repairs should hold. You can go back to your room now-you're repairs should be integrated enough for most activities now, and I don't need you cluttering up my med-bay anymore." Then he stepped back and, with a firm order to contact him if _anything _started malfunctioning, grabbed his tray of used tools and marched off to another one of the side doors.

Skyfire didn't even wait for the door to close behind him before standing up, plating itching with the need to _move._ The repairs ached with the movement, but they held well enough. Starscream was beside his side in an instant, there in case Skyfire faltered. A nice gesture, but unnecessary. Ratchet had done a good job.

"I need to get out of here," he said quietly, almost to himself.

Concern trickled into the bond as Starscream stared up at him. "Alright. We can head back to the room, then. Ratchet said-"

"No," Skyfire cut in, irritation sharpening his tone. "I need to get out of the Ark. To… to go _flying._" And now that he said it, he couldn't think of anything else. An intense yearning welled up, for the freedom of the air and the simplicity of being in alt-mode. It wasn't quite sky-hunger, but it was close enough. His mind made up, he set off quickly towards the door. He'd need to alert the Autobots to his intention, but unless they'd decided he was to be a prisoner again, they had no authority to stop him.

Starscream made a choked sound of surprise and stumbled after him, grabbing his arm. "What? No, it's dangerous out there! What if the Decepticons show up again? And your injuries, what about them? You're not completely healed yet?" Real worry colored Starscream's spark, and it wasn't unjustified. Both of his concerns were legitimate. It still wasn't enough to make him reconsider

"I'll stay close to the Ark," he promised. "and the repairs will hold for a short flight." He kept walking. His momentum pulled Starscream forward a step before he caught his balance. Then the Seeker got a familiar, stubborn set to his jaw as he caught up.

"I'm coming with you," he said.

Skyfire shook his head without looking down. "I'd prefer to be alone"

"But-"

"_Alone,_ Starscream," he snapped, a bit harsher than he'd intended. He gentled his tone. "I'll stay in contact. If anything happens, Skywarp could teleport me away in a klik. I just… need some time on my own."

Normally, he'd love the chance to fly with the Seeker. Right now, though, the thought was suffocating. He didn't want to spend the flight trying to ignore Starscream's concern or worrying about what the Seeker was planning in the labs. He just wanted to forget the events of the last quarter orn, if only for a few cycles_. _He pushed the tangle of emotions at Starscream, and the Seeker, who'd been gearing up for another argument, hesitated, then backed down.

"Just be careful," he said. "And if you do anything stupid while you're up there, _I will kill you._"

Skyfire tried to give him a reassuring smile and pulled the Seeker into a short, one armed embrace. "I won't."

With only a moment's hesitation, Skyfire pinged Jazz with his flight request. It was only a klik before he got a confirmation, along with a simple map marking what parts of the surrounding land were deep enough in their territory to be safe from Decepticon incursion.

The security cameras followed them as they walked towards the front of the Ark, and Skyfire didn't miss the way the scattered Autobots they passed stared. He tried to ignore the way muttered conversations sprung up behind them and how their optics lingered on the lingering marks from his injuries. It took some effort, but he forced himself to stand tall and not cover up his new hand.

A guard stood at the front door of the Ark, but he only gave them a flat, almost bored stare and ignored them. He couldn't tell whether the indifference was an act or not, and as Skyfire stared up at the sky, he found he didn't care. Already he could feel the tight ball of frustration in his chest starting to loosen just at the promise of freedom.

He set up a program to automatically ping Skywarp with his location every klik. Then he narrowed the bond as far as it could go, transformed, and took off into the wide, empty sky. As his engines roared through the air, pushed almost past their limits, Skyfire finally just _let go._ He poured all his anger and frustration, his pain and worry into his engines and tore across the empty desert.

…

By the time he came back down, the sky was edging towards dusk, and Skyfire was thoroughly exhausted. His repairs were throbbing insistently from the stress, but he was smiling. His restlessness and frustration had largely burnt away, leaving his chest feeling almost hollow. He felt better though. Cleaner. He wasn't surprised at all to find three mecha waiting for him by the entrance of the Ark.

"Feeling better?" Thundercracker asked as soon as Skyfire landed.

He nodded. "Much." It was even the truth. And, if he refused to look at his new hand as they walked inside, nobody else mentioned it.

* * *

><p>...<p>

Starscream was missing again the next morning when Skyfire woke up, but he returned before midday, just before Skyfire left to find him. Starscream sat down in one of the chairs, offering him a muttered greeting but otherwise ignoring Skyfire to fume silently. He even kept his emotions locked out of the bond, ignoring Skyfire's nudges at his spark.

His chest throbbed from the stress of yesterday's excursion, but Skyfire stood up and moved over to the table regardless, grabbing the remaining chair.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Starscream's jaw tightened and he looked away. "Nothing," he said, and even with the bond blocked Skyfire could tell he was lying. Starscream glanced around the room and, obviously stalling, asked, "Where are Skywarp and Thundercracker?"

"They're speaking with Prowl currently. After the battle, they agreed to help the Autobots with tactics." He paused at Starscream's surprised face, and then pointedly continued, "You'd know that if you'd been here this morning."

Guilt made Starscream glance away, but he still didn't answer Skyfire's question. He sighed. Of course. With Starscream, it could never be that easy.

"Star..." Skyfire murmured. "Just tell me. You've been acting off for solar cycles. What's going on?" As he spoke, he kept up a gentle pressure against the blocked bond.

Starscream's optics darted towards the door, but Skyfire was between him and it. The Seeker wouldn't be getting out without very obviously running away, and Starscream had always hated that. Skyfire let the silence build, waiting for Starscream to answer. He could out-patience the Seeker any day.

It didn't even take a full breem of fidgeting for Starscream to give in. The mental wall fell with a soft groan, letting Skyfire in. He could immediately feel the Seekers worry and frustration, but he didn't focus on that. Instead, Skyfire pushed his own concern and confusion across the bond. After that, it didn't take much longer for Starscream to start to speak.

"I asked Jazz to teach me how to fight today," he confessed quietly.

"You _what_?" Skyfire gasped. Not only had Starscream tried to learn how to fight-and when had Starscream decided _that?_-but he'd gone to _Jazz?_

Starscream continued as if he hadn't heard. "He refused. Said it would take megavorns to get me up to snuff on the ground and I should just focus on my skill in the air."

_Good,_ Skyfire thought, though he didn't say it. Jazz was right, of course. Starscream, like all Seekers, was better in the air. At least there his natural ability would let him outrun any attackers.

"You shouldn't have to fight. The Autobots will-" Skyfire started, but Starscream cut him off.

"Protect us? _Hah!_" he scoffed. "Look at how good a job they've done so far."

He gestured towards Skyfire's frame, with its thick weld marks still bisecting his chest, and Skyfire winced. "We'll be more careful now," he offered. "We all got caught off guard. It won't happen again."

"_Yes it will!" _Starscream shouted, standing up with a clatter. "It doesn't matter how careful we are! We're smack dab in the middle of an active war zone, and I can't do a single slagging thing about it. I can't even fight! The only thing I could do was run away, and look how that turned out!"

He paused, breathing hard, before turning away with a muffled curse. His frame was almost vibrating with pent up frustration as he started to pace, and his wingtips flicked agitatedly as if he wanted to be in the air. Skyfire reached out to touch him, but Starscream threw his hand off, spinning around to face him again. "I'm supposed to be their Trine leader," Starscream said. "I'm your bondmate, your _equal, _but you act like I'm just slagging useless."

"Of course we don't think-"

"You've certainly been acting like you do!" Starscream accused. "It wasn't just the slagging battle, it's all the time! I can't even walk down the hallway alone unless I sneak out, and even then you're constantly pinging me and checking up on me! It's like you think I'm gonna impale myself with a broken beaker if I'm left alone for a klik. I'm not helpless, and I'm sure as slag not _delicate._ So stop treating me that way!"

That was the root of Starscream's anger, wasn't it. He couldn't stand being considered weak or incompetent in any way. No wonder he'd taken their concern the wrong way.

"That's not why we're trying to protect you." Skyfire said. He tried to keep his voice calm, but, considering Starscream was angry about _not _needing to fight, he was starting to get upset too.

Starscream threw up his hands, "Fine! Then explain why you can't trust me to get a slagging cube of energon on my own anymore!"

"You were dead, Starscream!" Skyfire finally shouted. He grabbed Starscream by the shoulders, forcing him to meet his optics. "It might have felt like moments to you, but you were frozen in that ice for millennia. Half of the time, I wake up and I think I'm still dreaming when I can still feel you in the bond. Of course we're paranoid about anything hurting you-we wouldn't survive losing you a second time!"

He pushed his old grief and fear over the bond, forcing Starscream to see the truth in that statement. Starscream shuddered, flinching away from the strength of the emotions. Guilt flashed across his spark, warring with his pride. When Skyfire took his shoulder, guiding him back to the chairs, Starscream went.

When Starscream spoke again, he was at least calmer. "You can't protect me all the time," he said. "It's not possible."

"I can try."

Starscream glared at him, anger rising again, and Skyfire sighed. "If it really matters that much to you, we can ask Skywarp and Thundercracker to teach you some military maneuvers," he said reluctantly. "Maybe we can even convince the Autobots to give us our weapons back. Just… promise me that, if you're ever in real danger, you'll obey whatever order we give. Even if it means running away."

"But-"

"_No._" On this, he wouldn't compromise. "We have megavorns more experience in fighting a war. That's not an insult to your ability-it's a fact. If there's another battle, we need to know you'll listen to us, no matter what."

Starscream fell silent, and Skyfire didn't push. He could afford to let Starscream think it over. With any luck, the Decepticons wouldn't try another attack so soon after the last one. They could afford another few solar cycles.

Finally, Starscream turned towards him again and quietly asked, "How can I leave you to fight when it's my fault you're in danger at all?"

"What?"

Starscream looked down, jaw clenched. "You defected from the Decepticons so that you could come looking for me. That's the whole reason why Megatron attacked you. Why he's going to try again as soon as he learns you survived."

Slag. He couldn't let Starscream think that. Skyfire kept his hand on Starscream's shoulder and said, "Of course it's not your fault! You weren't even online when that happened. It was our decision. Don't try to take that away from us."

"If I hadn't been so careless that I crashed in the first place-" Starscream said, guilt swirling in his spark. Skyfire cut him off immediately.

"Then our lives would have turned out very differently. Maybe better, maybe worse. No matter what, I wouldn't want to change what we have now." He tried to smile and shifted his hand from Starscream's shoulder to his wing, which had started trembling. "In the end, it turned out fairly well. We're all still alive. I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep it that way."

Starscream reached out to hold Skyfire's new hand. His thumb traced the weld scars circling the limb. "So will I," he said, voice hard as steel. "They tried to take my bondmate from me once and almost succeeded." He turned burning optics on Skyfire. "_I will not let them try again!_"

Taken aback, Skyfire didn't know what to say for several long moments. He kept stroking Starscream's wing, and eventually his new hand relaxed under Starscream's. Starscream accepted the contact with an unselfconscious fervor he rarely showed, leaning into Skyfire's side and burying his face in his chest. Skyfire widened the bond, both to offer comfort and to gain some insight on what he was feeling and what the _slag _he'd meant by that. If Starscream was planning on putting himself in danger...

But, so far as Skyfire could tell, that didn't seem to be the case. Of course, that didn't mean Skyfire was pleased by what he found. Buried behind Starscream's fear and worry and guilt lay a fury that was truly frightening in its scope. Skyfire brushed against it, sensed its strength and depth, and flinched away.

This wasn't Starscream's normal anger. Skyfire was intimately familiar with his bonded's emotions, especially his anger, even after so many megavorns apart. Starscream had always been prone to fits of temper and vengeance and to overblown, doomed plans for revenge. As one of the few mecha capable of making Starscream see reason when he was upset, Skyfire had once spent megacycles calming him down and dismantling his plots before they could be put into action.

This wasn't like that.

Starscream's anger had always been a wild, chaotic thing. It would blaze across the bond, overshadowing everything else, even logic, and Skyfire had always considered it a wonder that Starscream could even think when he was caught in the grips of his rage. For the first time, despite a fury that eclipsed anything he'd felt from him before, Starscream's side of the bond was calm. Dangerously so. For once, his rage didn't burn hot-it was _cold._

Starscream was furious, but he wasn't irrational. And that scared the frag out of him.

* * *

><p>~.*.~<p>

* * *

><p>AN: This chapter gave me an endless amount of trouble, and I'm not even sure why. Sorry about the wait.<p> 


	26. Plots and Preparations

Tangled Destiny

Chapter 26: Plots and Preparation

* * *

><p>...<p>

Skyfire was deep in the middle of a recharge cycle when a hand shaking his shoulder jarred him into awareness. Old instincts had him jerking upwards immediately, one hand reaching for his missing blaster, before his processer was more than half online. A familiar head filled his vision as he groped at empty air.

"Skywarp? What?" he mumbled, shaking his head to clear his processer. Skywarp didn't give him any time to find his balance. The Seeker grabbed his arm and yanked, pulling Skyfire off the berth and to his feet. Thundercracker was already standing beside him, looking wide awake but no less confused, and Starscream wasn't far behind.

"We need to go. The kid's in trouble," he said.

And with that cryptic statement, Skywarp grabbed hold of their arms and teleported. Skyfire only had time to think that Jazz was going to be pissed at them before the room disappeared in a vortex of purple. He stumbled as he landed, blinking away the disorientation from the abrupt change in scenery.

They'd landed in one of the large, flat clearings that made up the Autobots' territory. It was somewhere along the outer edges of their land, if he wasn't mistaken-close enough they were just barely outside their camera range. They weren't alone.

Two sets of blasters were immediately aimed at them, held by some very familiar silhouettes: Seekers. Daylight glinted off their plating, and Skyfire recognized the familiar forms of the second-ranked Decepticon Trine-the new Command Trine now, he supposed. Their plating was scuffed and dented from neglect, still marked with untreated battle damage, but their weapons were fully charged. He almost missed the fourth, smaller figure half hidden between them with a blaster pointed at his helm. Skyfire's spark ran cold when he recognized the low, slanted white wings and red chassis: Fireflight. Skywarp make a soft, furious sound-almost a growl-as he saw the youngling, which was immediately echoed by his Trinemates.

Thundercracker didn't even hesitate. He took in what was happening in one short sweep of his optics-Thrust's hand clenched on Fireflight's shoulder, the fully charged weapon at his side-and stepped forward.

"Let the youngling go, Thrust," he ordered as he moved forward, striding ahead to meet them. The Seeker didn't have any weapons on him whatsoever-no way at all to actually threaten the other Trine-but Thundercracker's frame still managed to radiate authority, from the tips of his outstretched wings to the furious rumble of his voice.

Thrust faltered, wings starting to dip with submission, in an ingrained response to his tone. He quickly caught himself and straightened, and his hand tightened on his blaster, as if he were reminding himself of the weapon's presence.

"Stay where you are!" Thrust shouted back. He tried to match Thundercracker's authoritative tone, but a slight, almost imperceptible quaver betrayed his nervousness.

Thundercracker eyed the other Seeker speculatively, and for a moment Skyfire thought Thundercracker was going to keep pushing. In the end, he obeyed the order, but he wasn't happy about it. "You called us here," he said, hands clenched at his sides and wings still flared wide. "Why."

Emboldened by Thundercracker's obedience, Thrust's mouth curved into a hesitant smirk. "I knew you'd come if we had him. You've gone soft, just like the Autobots you betrayed us for."

An almost imperceptible wince crossed Thundercracker's face, but his tone was pure business when he responded. "You didn't kidnap a Seekerling and lure us out here for small talk," he said quietly. "Why are you really here?"

Thrust straightened, and the hesitant, prideful smirk darkened into a scowl. "Fine," he said. Then, staring straight at Thundercracker, he ordered, "You're going to tell me how you tricked the Autobots into protecting you."

It was not what any of them had been expecting. Thundercracker faltered, caught off guard. "I… what?"

"You heard me!" Thrust said louder, leaning forward. "You went from being one of the 'bots greatest enemies to having them flying to your rescue in a couple orns! How?"

The shock of Thrust's revelation was wearing off, and the ridiculousness of the situation started to settle in. The Coneheads had lured them out here, invaded Autobot territory, and outright kidnapped one of the Aerialbots, and the first thing they wanted was advice on dealing with the Autobots. He could almost taste the irony.

Skywarp let out a bark of bitter laughter. "That's what this is about? You're trying to get the 'bots to help you?" He shook his head, lip curling into a sneer. "You're even more slagging stupid than I thought if you think taking one of their younglings hostage will do anything other than make the Autobots want to deactivate you."

The Coneheads bristled, and Fireflight winced as the grip on his arm tightened. Thundercracker hissed something at Skywarp, and he stepped back, cowed. Thrust continued to glare, but eventually he forced his optics back to Thundercracker.

"We're not looking for trust," Thrust growled, voice rough with anger. "All we want is safe passage off this slagheap of a planet, and you're gonna help us get it."

Thundercracker's optics flickered in surprise. "Off? You mean..." he trailed away, shaking off his surprise, but Skyfire easily filled in the blanks. The Coneheads weren't here for one of Megatron's plots. From the sound of it, it was the opposite.

Thundercracker quickly recovered and continued. "The Autobots are suckers for sob stories, but they're not stupid. The best way to gain their cooperation is through their goodwill. I'd suggest starting by releasing your hostage then requesting an official audience with the Prime. Even if he doesn't trust you, he'll protect you."

Skyfire could tell he was actually being sincere. Thundercracker honestly thought this was the best solution, for both them and the other Trine. Below his anger at the Coneheads and worry about Fireflight, he got the impression that Thundercracker even wanted this to work out for the other Trine.

Thrust didn't see it that way.

The other Seeker forced a laugh-a grating sound of false mirth to show what he thought of that idea. "This," he said, giving Fireflight a little shake, "is my guarantee that the 'bots won't attack as soon as they find us on their territory. _You're_ the stupid one if you think I'll just give up the biggest piece of leverage I have."

Thundercracker didn't back down. "You'll have to let Fireflight go eventually. Even if you do manage to bargain your way off planet, what then? Nobody can survive long with both factions wanting them dead. If you hurt him… Pit, just by capturing him you'll have Autobots demanding your deactivation."

"We'll take that risk" Thrust said, as if the thought of the entire Autobot army gunning for his head didn't intimidate him at all. Skyfire knew Thrust better than that-he wasn't stupid, not even close, even if he tended to be short sighted. He wouldn't risk his Trine against direct Autobot retaliation unless they were running from something they feared even more.

"Something happened, didn't it," Skyfire cut in, unable to stay silent any longer. "You wouldn't be here, especially not with such a weak plan, if it hadn't." He hesitated, searching their optics for a hint, then blurted out, "What did Megatron do?"  
>At the sound of Megatron's name, all three Seekers brisled. It was the most honest reaction he'd gotten out of them yet, free of the posturing they'd clung to before.<p>

"Megatron's gone insane," Ramjet spat from his perch behind Thrust.

Skywarp snorted, a loud, ugly sound that cut through the tense atmosphere. "Megatron's been going crazy ever since we woke up on this stupid mudball," he scoffed. "Nobody ever did jack shit to stop him. Try something else."

It was the wrong thing to say. Ramjet half lunged forward as if he wanted to attack them, and only Thrust's growled order held him back. "Don't you dare talk about it like you know what's happening," he shouted. "You left."

Skywarp met Ramjet's anger with his own. "Of course we did!" he said. "You saw what was going on. Like slag I was gonna bring our Trinemate back there."

Ramjet snarled, and the blaster he was still holding thrummed with excess energy. With a jolt, Skyfire realized it was pointed straight at Skywarp. "So you ran away," he accused. "You slagging left all of us there with him and cosied up to the Autobots, you traitors!"

Silence rang out. The rage visibly drained out of Skywarp, replaced by troubled realization. Ah, slag," he whispered. His voice suddenly seemed thunderously loud. "He finally deactivated someone, didn't he." He didn't have to say who.

Ramjet's resulting flinch was answer enough, but before he could confirm anything, the sound of jet engines, far off but undeniable, reached their audios. All of the Seekers jerked to attention, staring into the distance, and someone-he wasn't sure who-cursed vividly. Skyfire strained to see who it was, friend or foe, but they weren't even in optic range yet. Then Fireflight let out a little gasp and leaned forward, face breaking out in a wide, relieved smile.

"It's them!" he cried, practically vibrating in excitement. There was only one group he could be talking about: his brothers. The others weren't so pleased. Thrust's optics paled at his words, and even Thundercracker's fingers were twitching in the way that meant he was getting desperate.

"We can still fix this," Thundercracker tried, growing more urgent. "Nobody's been harmed yet. If you let Fireflight go, we'll figure something out."

Thrust didn't even glance away from the sky. "Too late for that. Besides, they won't attack so long as we have the kid. If you won't help us, we'll figure it out on our own," Thrust said, but his tone didn't match the confidence of his words. His wingtips were starting to tremble from the stress, and Skyfire estimated that he was only a few steps away from true panic. With an arsenal of weapons at his fingertips, a youngling as hostage, and more on their way, that could only end badly. He wasn't the only one to come to this realization, but he was too late to recognize what the resolve in Starscream's spark meant.

"You just want a hostage, right?" Starscream asked, stepping forward. His emotions flowed like quicksilver before settling into determination, and he spread his arms wide. "How about a trade then? You've got an official Neutral right here. Those softsparks back at the Ark promised me protection. They wouldn't risk hurting me any more than the Youngling, with the added bonus that they won't immediately want to murder you like they will if they see you pointing a blaster at the kid's neck."

Skyfire stiffened and reached out to stop Starscream, an automatic denial on his lips. Starscream batted his hand away with a silent order over the bond: trust me. Reluctantly, Skyfire did. He stayed back, fists clenched, as Starscream walked forward alone. A blaster followed his movement, but nobody stopped him.

Starscream stopped a step away from the other Trine, with a blaster almost close enough to touch. Then he smirked. "Well?" he asked. "You gonna accept my offer?"

The three Seekers exchanged glances. Encrypted 'com channels darted through the air between them. Then the blaster lowered, and Ramjet stepped forward. "Don't even think about trying to pull something," he warned.

He took out a pair of energon cuffs from his subspace. With an annoyed huff, Starscream held his hands out in front of him, and Ramjet tightened the metal around his wrists, not even bothering to move them behind the younger Seeker's back. Thundercracker rumbled in displeasure as Thrust's blaster was turned from Fireflight to Starscream, and Thrust gave the youngling a push forward.

"Go," he said. Fireflight obeyed. He stumbled forward, first with hesitant steps then sprinting across the empty grass to safety by their side. He almost barreled into Skyfire in his haste then stayed in the shadow of his bulk, clutching at his plating. Skywarp put a hand on his shoulder and murmured something in his ear, softly enough Skyfire couldn't catch it. Whatever it was, it helped Fireflight relax, and he leaned slightly into the touch,

The jet engines were getting closer, enough so that it was possible to make out the four faint smudges of Fireflight's brothers against the horizon. The Coneheads watched their approach, optics darting between the incoming Autobots and the other group glaring at them from across the clearing. They barely even spared a glance for their hostage, dismissing him in the face of the other two threats.

That was their crucial mistake. Starscream was a force that could never be ignored.

The tense anticipation that had been building in Starscream's spark suddenly peaked, and Starscream moved. He spun around, twisting under Thrust's arm and away from the blaster, as he slammed his manacled hands into the back of Thrust's held. The older Seeker stumbled forward, stunned, and his Trinemates just stared, too shocked to react in that critical moment.

Skywarp and Thundercracker didn't have the same problem. Skywarp immediately took advantage of the confusion and teleported into the middle of the fray with a wild war cry, pouncing on the closest Conehead. Skyfire's vision was blocked by the lingering purple traces of the teleport and the cloud of dust kicked up in the scuffle, and he quickly lost track of who was on top amidst the tumbling limbs.

So he ran as quickly as he could, scanning through the settling dust for a sign. He was almost there when Starscream's triumphant yell split the air. The air was clearing, and Skyfire could make out the broad angles of Starscream's wings sticking up in the air. He had Thrust pinned beneath him, and the older Seeker lay suspiciously still beneath him.

"Don't move, or I'll shoot," Starscream shouted. His optics were bright crimson, and his mouth was curved in a wild grin that was equal parts vindication and pure adrenaline. He was holding something in his hand-a small blaster. Where had he gotten something like that? The weapon fit easily in the curve of his hand, and the barrel was pressed against the thin plating of Thrust's neck.

Thrust froze at the feel of the cool metal against his helm, but his optics kept darting around and his frame was tense. When he spoke, his voice was tight with nerves. "You're bluffing," he said, shifting underneath Starscream's weight. "You're just a Neutral-a Civvie. You won't shoot me."

Starscream dug the barrel harder into Thrust's head, and he stopped squirming. "You sure about that?" Starscream asked. "'Cause right now, literally all I know about you is that you were gonna shoot a Youngling and threatened my bondmates. Can't say I'm feeling very sympathetic right now."

He chuckled, a sound that was a disturbing mix of excitement and hysteria, and leaned closer. "If I were you, I'd stay _real_ still right now. I might not be a real soldier, but right now I've got a blaster to your head and my finger on the trigger." He shifted his weight on Thrust's back, inadvertently grinding his face against the ground. Then he tilted his head, grinning wickedly. "Of course, if anything startled me, I might just end up pulling the trigger before I can even think it through. Maybe I'd even regret it. You'd be dead either way though."

Thrust glanced around wildly, searching for an escape route, but he didn't find what he wanted to see. Skywarp had managed to get Ramjet firmly pinned under his frame, and Dirge, while unrestrained, hadn't moved since Starscream's first triumphant shout. He was watching the confrontation with dull optics, waiting to see what his Trine leader would do. In the background, the sound of engines was still steadily growing louder. The Aerialbots would be within fighting range soon, and the other Autobots couldn't be much further behind. Even if the Coneheads managed to get free, they'd already lost the upper hand.

"Slag you," Thrust gasped, but the words sounded like defeat. He fell limp under Starscream's hold. Dirge followed suit soon after, surrendering his blaster, and Ramjet eventually subsided after voicing an impressive litany of curses. As soon as the weapons were out of their reach, Skyfire took the last few steps to Starscream's side.

Starscream's hands were starting to tremble as he came down from the high of combat, but he still had a secure grip on Thrust. All in all, he was holding it together remarkably well given the circumstances.

"You got any cuffs on you?" Starscream asked without taking his optics off his captive.

Skyfire shook his head. "The 'bots confiscated anything like that," he answered. His processer immediately jumped to other ways they could hold the other three in place until the Autobots arrived, though there weren't many good alternatives.

"I have some!" Skywarp piped up. "I knew this would come in handy eventually!" Then he reached into his subspace and pulled out several long strands of steel cables. Skyfire refrained from asking him where or why he had gotten it, and soon enough they had the entire Trine trussed up securely and laid out side by side.

Skywarp stepped back, grinning at his handiwork. "Not bad for a couple a barely armed Neutrals, right guys?" he asked, slinging his arm around Thundercracker's shoulders. The other Seeker didn't react, and Skywarp glanced at him in concern. "TC?"

"They're here." Thundercracker said, staring up at the sky.

As he spoke, the Aerialbots came roaring in above them, fast enough that Skyfire was worried they'd overshoot. They screamed to a stop directly above them, transforming back into root mode with weapons crackling with charge, but they didn't have anyone to fight. Instead, they hovered there awkwardly for a few moments, taking in the prone, weaponless 'Cons, as their own blasters slowly faded back into dormancy.

"Took you long enough," Starscream sniffed. "You missed all the fun."

He didn't get an answer. The Aerialbots' optics found Fireflight's, and then they were diving down to meet him. The four of them acted like Starscream hadn't even spoken in their rush to their brother. Starscream huffed his annoyance at being thoroughly ignored, though his spark wasn't in it.

He was caught completely off guard when Fireflight suddenly turned away from his brothers and flung himself at the Seeker. "Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!" he shouted,

Starscream hesitantly patted at his back, unsure what to do with an armful of half-hysterical Seekerling. "You're welcome?" he tried. His optics met Skyfire's over Fireflight's helm, and made a sharp gesture for Skyfire to come over and help him, slaggit.

Skyfire shook his head with a smile and meandered away, over to where Skywarp was still standing by the Coneheads. Starscream would survive the Youngling's attention on his own.

Skywarp looked up at his approach. "So..." he started, staring down at their prisoners. "What do we do now?"

Skyfire shrugged. "I'm sure the other Autobots will arrive soon," he said. "They'll know what to do next." Wordlessly, the two of them took up watch over the three prisoners. As he predicted, it was only a couple breems before the softer sound of vehicle engines came into audio range.

Jazz was the first to transform, though Mirage, the Twins and a couple others he didn't recognize weren't fast behind. Mirage and the others went straight for Thrust and his Trine, but Jazz headed towards them first. He went to Thundercracker, and they spoke together in low, serious tones. Skyfire surrendered his spot by the Coneheads to the Autobots as soon as it was safe and stepped back. Starscream soon joined him, having slipped away from the Aerialbots in the confusion.

"Well? Think we're in trouble?" Starscream asked quietly, watching the Autobots swarm around the other Trine.

Skyfire shook his head. "I doubt it," he said. "We might get reamed out for not immediately 'comming Jazz, but I doubt they'd do anything serious." He smiled. "After all, it did work out. Plus we'll have the younglings to testify in our defense. That'll go a long way."

Starscream hummed noncommittally, and they stood in silence, watching as the Autobots replaced Skywarp's makeshift restraints with real energon cuffs and hauling the three 'Cons to their feet. The Seekers didn't struggle as they were manhandled none too gentle into position for transport.

Jazz and Thundercracker seemed to have finished up their conversation, and Jazz turned away with a perfunctory nod. His meandering path back to the rest of the Autobots brought him within a few steps of their group. Something caught his attention as he passed, and he slowed.

"What might this be?" Jazz said, plucking the small blaster from Starscream's lax grip. Starscream jumped and fumbled for the handle, but Jazz was too quick. He tipped it up to his optics and stared at it, head cocked. Starscream made another grab for it, which Jazz easily avoided.

"It's mine," Starscream growled.

"Really? Huh. I coulda sworn it was one of our designs. One of Wheeljack's, to be precise-I remember the schematic. It's a new one too." He tapped his chin with one finger and smiled at Starscream, a wicked glint in his visor. "Makes ya wonder how it got to be all the way out here."

And then he just stared at Starscream, daring him to explain himself. He didn't say anything else. Didn't outright accuse him. No, he was going to make Starscream admit it himself. Starscream folded quickly in the expectant silence.

"I found it in the labs and figured it would come in handy eventually," he said, smart enough not to try any weak excuses Jazz would only tear apart. Then he stuck his chin up in challenge, trying to regain control of the conversation. "I was right too! We got in a fight again without any real weapons to defend ourselves with! Where were you guys this time, huh?"

"Racing ta catch up after ya teleported into a trap ta help one a ours." Jazz answered quietly. "An' even without our help, ya managed ta came out on top again."

Starscream stayed silent, unsure whether that was supposed to be a compliment or the start of a reprimand. Skyfire didn't know either.

Jazz just smiled. "Catch," he said, and he tossed the small blaster back at Starscream. Caught off guard, Starscream barely managed to catch the weapon, and he looked up at Jazz in surprise.

"You're letting me keep it?" he blurted out. He didn't wait for an answer before subspacing the small weapon and staring at Jazz suspiciously, as if worried the mech would change his mind.

Jazz shrugged, still smiling that enigmatic smile. "Why not? After all, it's practically harmless." Starscream choked, and Jazz's grin widened. "Yup. Completely non-lethal. The energy beam was designed to disrupt the sensor net, stunning a mech for several breems without causing any actual damage." He turned to Thrust, who was being herded further away by Ironhide, and his grin widened. "Didja hear that mechs? Ya got bested by a Civvie with a taser. Congratulations."

Skyfire was far enough away he couldn't hear their response, but he could still see the look on their faces at Jazz's taunt. Thrust's face was flustered with humiliation, mouth moving soundlessly in denial. Jazz chuckled and moved to join the growing throng of Autobots by him.

Starscream hesitated, then darted forward. "Wait!" he shouted at Jazz's back. Jazz paused, glancing over his shoulder, and Starscream continued.

Fists clenched and legs squared, Starscream ordered, "When we get back to the Ark, put me on weapons development. I want to work on something more important than energon collection."

Jazz's demeanor seemed almost to sharpen as he turned to face them directly, giving them his full attention. "Weapons development?" he repeated, tone empty of everything except mild curiosity. The overall effect was intimidating rather than reassuring, as if Jazz was preparing to verbally eviscerate them if they gave the wrong answer.

"Yes."

"Hm." He looked Starscream over slowly, inspecting him from head to foot as Starscream pretended to be unintimidated. Jazz gave a curt nod and said, "Talk to Wheeljack. He'll decide whether you're worth the effort."

"I am," Starscream stated confidently. His face was already flush with satisfaction, and he remembered to give Jazz a respectful bow as he walked away, finished with the conversation.

Skyfire waited until Jazz reached the others then turned to Starscream. "Weaponry?" he questioned.

Starscream shrugged and, without turning to face him, said,"If you won't let me fight with you, then I need to find another way to help."

It made sense. Yet, there was still something not quite right about Starscream's spark. Something, he wasn't sure what, caught his attention, and he sighed."You're plotting something," he murmured, quietly enough there wasn't a chance of anyone overhearing.

The strange, nameless emotion immediately vanished from the bond, and Starscream turned his most innocent look on him. "What do you mean?" he asked, feigning confusion. Skyfire knew him far, far too well to be fooled.

"Starscream..." he groaned and let his bondmate feel exactly how unimpressed he was with the performance.

Starscream waved him off, dropping the innocent act without admitting to anything. "Relax," he said." I wouldn't do anything that would get us in trouble with the 'bots. Well, not serious trouble anyway."

Skyfire studied Starscream, trying to judge how serious he was. It wouldn't be the first time Starscream had ignored his concerns, but this time he seemed sincere.

"Just… be careful," he sighed, letting the subject drop. He wouldn't be getting anything else out of him now, and he trusted Starscream's judgement, flawed though it often was, enough for that.

"Aren't I always?" Starscream said, and before Skyfire could say anything else, he stepped away. "Looks like they're all ready to head out," he said, pointing at the others. "You don't want to get left behind, do you?"

He started to walk away and, smiling half against his will, Skyfire followed.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Thundercracker was swept away with the other officers as soon as they entered the Ark, leaving the other three to make their way back to their quarters in silence. It was cycles before Thundercracker returned, stressed and exhausted, and he immediately collapsed into a chair, remaining upright through sheer force of will alone.

Skywarp came up behind him, draping his frame across the back of the chair and Thundercracker's shoulders. "Well?" he asked with his head resting against Thundercracker's plating. "How'd it go?"

Thundercracker tensed further instead of relaxing against his Trinemate. Concerned, Skywarp reached over to run his hand along his wing, and they waited in expectant silence for his answer.

"I spoke with Thrust," Thundercracker finally said. "He was very forthcoming with us after we explained the situation he'd gotten himself into."

Skywarp made a soft, almost hurt sound, and Skyfire was abruptly reminded of how, even though the two Trines had never been particularly close, they'd still respected and supported each other. After flying and fighting and surviving together for megavorns, how could they not be?

Skywarp growled and scrubbed at his face, as if trying to rub away any traces of sympathy as well. He continued almost angrily. "Why'd they have to be so stupid about it?" he asked. "They came barging into Autobot territory without even a real plan! They're usually smarter than that!"

Thundercracker didn't answer, not with a justification or a condemnation or even a word of comfort for his Trinemate. It wasn't like him. Slag, he could already tell this was going to be bad.

Either Skywarp noticed it as well or he felt something over the trinebond. "TC? What's wrong?" he asked, straightening just enough to look him directly in the optic. His face fell at what he found. "I- ah, frag. Someone really was deactivated, weren't they."

Pain flickered across Thundercracker's face, and he nodded. "Laserbeak. Megatron killed Laserbeak. " he said. Thundercracker's voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried across the dead silent room. He took a deep, shuddering breath and continued.

"That's why Thrust's Trine was so desperate to escape Earth. Why they came bumbling over here without an escape plan. They were just getting out of there before they got caught in the fallout."

"Oh, slag."Skywarp breathed. It was the only thing he said for a long while. Skyfire couldn't even get that much out past the stone that suddenly seemed lodged in his throat. Primus, Laserbeak. He'd barely known the small spy, but it was enough to envision what kind of chaos would result from his deactivation, especially at the hands of Megatron.

"Wait, who is… was Laserbeak?" Starscream interjected, glancing between them. His optics were a bright red, almost scarlet, with concern, and his spark radiated a wary confusion as he fed off their reactions. Skyfire froze with a curse. Of course Starscream didn't know who the Cassette was. He didn't want to be the one struggling to explain the politics that surrounded Soundwave's brood, but someone had to tell Starscream.

Thundercracker finally answered Starscream's question after an uncomfortably long pause. "He was a Cassetticon and a spy for a mech called Soundwave, one of Megatron's highest ranked and most trusted Officers," he said. "Besides Megatron, he's probably one of the most powerful mecha there."

Starscream's brow furrowed as his confusion intensified."A Cassette Carrier? But aren't they..."

"Ridiculously protective of their wards?" Skywarp finished for him. "Yeah. And Soundwave wasn't an exception. The mech's a creep, but he cared 'bout them."

"So Megatron..." he trailed off, as if unable to find words to encompass just what the Warlord had done.

A nod. Then silence. Starscream leaned back heavily in his chair as he digested the new info. After a moment, he joined his trinemates, pulling his chair into reach. Two sets of hands pulled him close as they gave him time to digest the new information.

Solemnly, Starscream looked back up. "Soundwave's gonna kill him, isn't he," he said. "No self-respecting Carrier would do anything less."

The hands on his wings paused. "We'll see." Thundercracker answered weakly, looking away.

Starscream turned, pushing away from the other two as his expression morphing into something incredulous. "What the slag do you mean by that? He's a Carrier. They couldn't ignore the murder of their Cassette any more than you guys could if it were me!" Starscream said. His voice grew louder, and he pushed away Skywarp's calming hands as they reached for him again.

"They would if the fate of the rest of their Cassettes depended on it." Thundercracker said quietly.

That brought Starscream up short, and he gaped at his Trinemate. In an oddly small voice, he said, "Has the War really changed that too? You can't tell me that Soundwave would really stay loyal to that slagger after this. Not unless he's as psychotic as that megalomaniac he follows.

Skywarp started shaking his head before Starscream even finished speaking. "Loyalty's got nothing to do with it anymore," he said. "Half of the 'Cons lost that ages ago, after things got real bad, and most of the rest probably never had it to begin with. It's all about strength and survival now." He looked down at his hands, which were fidgeting on his lap, then continued with a self-deprecating smile. "Soundwave was probably one of the few truly loyal mecha left, and you know how that worked out for him. I'm betting all this means is that Soundwave's lumped in with the rest of the idiots now-clinging to Megatron's side in the hopes they'll survive long enough to see the end of the war."

He spat the last few words in disgust, and Skyfire knew he wasn't just talking about Soundwave. After all, the three of them had been among those "idiots," as Skywarp had put it, a mere fraction of a vorn earlier. They'd even been loyal once, back when the war was young. He reached over to trail his fingers down Skywarp's arm. Skywarp caught his hand before he could pull it back away, giving it a slight squeeze then releasing.

"So what do we do now?" Starscream asked, giving voice to the question on everyone's mind.

Thundercracker said, "This changes nothing. Either Soundwave will act or he won't. The Autobot High Command will decide how to respond, not us."

"So we just sit here and wait?" Starscream asked, disdain dripping from every word.

Thundercracker silenced him with a sharp look. "We carry on as we always have. We survive." He leaned closer, speaking pointedly at Starscream. "And we do not take unnecessary risks."

Starscream's jaw clenched as he bit back the argument struggling to escape. He succeeded-barely-and, standing up in several jerking motions, he stalked over to the berth. "I'm going to get some sleep," he said. "Don't bother me unless there's an attack." Then he curled up on the far side of the berth, facing away from them. Skywarp moved to follow, but Skyfire stopped him.

"Let him be," he advised quietly. "It's a lot to take in. If he's still upset in the morning, talk to him then."

Skywarp grumbled, but he reluctantly agreed. The rest of the night passed in uncomfortable silence until Skyfire finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>...<p>

The next solar cycle, they went to the labs. The Coneheads were imprisoned in the brig, Laserbeak was dead, and the Autobots were undoubtedly plotting their next move, yet he and Starscream went to the labs that cycle as if nothing had changed.

Wheeljack was already there when they walked in, fiddling with something on his desk. He looked up at their entrance and, grinning merrily, came to meet them. "Jazz mentioned you were interested in building weapons," he said, looking at Starscream. "Show me what you got!" His face panels flashed cheerfully, though the phrase was undeniably a challenge.

Starscream met it gladly. He whipped out a datapad from his subspace and set it down on the table with a flourish. "Here you go," he said, smirking. "I've got a full schematic; I just need your approval to start building."

Wheeljack's panels flickered white in surprise, then he returned Starscream's smile and they started talking technical. Skyfire was quickly lost-he'd never had any interest in the mechanics of weaponry-and he stared at Starscream in shock as he traded terms with Wheeljack, gesturing at the schematic that he had apparently designed. When had that happened? Starscream hadn't been any more involved in weaponry than he had back in Iacon. At least, not that Skyfire knew of.

Resolving to question him about it later, Skyfire devoted himself to trying to understand what the other two were talking about. The technicalities were unfamiliar, but the basic structures couldn't be that different from what he was used to. By the time Wheeljack dismissed them, satisfied that Starscream knew what he was doing and wasn't about to blow himself up, Skyfire was moderately comfortable with how the schematic worked.

Starscream immediately got to work, gathering supplies and arranging his space with a fierce determination. Skyfire watched him work, not quite confident enough to help.

"When did you design this?" Skyfire asked quietly, lightly touching a piece of forged metal on the desk. He tried to keep his emotions from the bond, but some of his melancholy must have leaked through.

Starscream froze with an armful of wiring and slowly turned to face him. "I've been working on it for a while. Since Iacon," he admitted, optics locked on the material in his arms. Then he raised his head to meet Skyfire's optics unashamedly. "I could tell things were heading in a bad direction. I figured we could use something to defend ourselves with."

Skyfire's hands clenched involuntarily on the desk, and he struggled to take a deep, calming breath. Had it really been going on for so long? "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

Starscream shrugged. "You were a pacifist. I didn't want to get you involved until I had something concrete to show for it." He reached down, dragging one hand along the outer edge of the schematic. "I'd… wanted to design something you'd be willing to use. Something that would stop a mech without hurting him, and not one of those weak stunners that can't even go past weapons-grade armor." He made a face in disgust, though his hand didn't stop its nervous motion.

Skyfire reached over, stilling Starscream's hand with his own. "Thank you," he said. Starscream might not have ever fired a weapon, but he'd never shared Skyfire's compunctions about violence. He wouldn't have decided on a weapon like this just for himself.

Starscream pulled away, embarrassed by the show of emotion, but his spark glowed with pleasure at the validation. Turning back to the workbench, he grabbed the gutted form of a long, thin weapon and got to work, adjusting the chassis size and rewiring the frame to fit his design. Skyfire pulled the schematic closer while Starscream worked, trying to puzzle through what Starscream was doing.

A breem later, Starscream said, "Hey Skyfire, grab me some of that focusing glass." He was so absorbed in his work he didn't even look up, not even to see if Skyfire was listening.

Shaking his head, Skyfire stood and obediently went towards the spare parts storage. An assortment of focusing glasses of varying size and strength were stored in a glass jar at the front. He grabbed the jar absentmindedly and turned back. He only took one step before the glass shattered in his hand. The shrill sound burst over the room like a gunshot. He froze, staring down at the broken glass in shock. Some shards had lodged in his plating, but most now lay in a sparkling heap around his feet. He could feel the optics of the other scientists staring, and his face flushed..

He'd used his new hand-the one without any of his upgrades-to carry it. He hadn't even realized he'd been exerting so much force…

"Apologies," he muttered. His voice carried across the silent room, and he bent down to begin picking up the glass shards. He jumped when Starscream joined him. Wordlessly, they continued to clean up the mess, sorting through the fractured pieces and separating the unbroken focusing glasses.

"C'mon," he said, standing up with a handful of glimmering glass. "I'm gonna need some help assembling this. You've always had a good optic for details."

Skyfire nodded, jaw too tense for words, and followed him back to the lab bench. Working on the stunner's construction didn't go much better. The first time he tried his hand at rewiring a section of what was to be the barrel, he didn't get more than a half breem into it before dropping the parts in mounting frustration. His new fingers felt thick and blocky, like sledge hammers instead of scalpels. He gave up at around the fifth frayed wire and hundredth misplaced connection and tried to work one-handed, but even that proved too much of a challenge. He pushed the scattered pieces away from him as his temper frayed.

To distract himself, he glanced over at Starscream, who was absorbed in his work as he tinkered with the fuel plant. The machinery coiled around the part was particularly complex to channel its full power into something manageable. As he watched Starscream work, he noticed something unexpected. Something seemed... off about the way the prototype looked. This time, when Starscream snagged another few heavy duty wires and capacitors, Skyfire watched carefully where he put them.

Skyfire grabbed his wrist as Starscream finished and reached over for more. "That isn't in the schematic you showed Wheeljack," he said.

"What are you talking about?" Starscream snapped. He jabbed his finger at a particularly complex tangle of wiring in the schematic. "It's right here!"

Skyfire obligingly looked, but his first impression didn't change. In fact, it grew stronger. "No, I don't think it is," he said. "It looks to me as if the power supply is meant to connect behind this section. Plus, these definitely aren't the right connectors. The output would be much stronger than you'd predicted."

"Just drop it," Starscream hissed, lowering his voice.

"Not until you tell me-"

A sharp, silent reprimand from across the bond silenced him. Starscream glanced pointedly at Wheeljack, who was distracted by his own project yet well within audio range. _Later_, he mouthed. Then he extracted his arm from Skyfire's hand and continued to work.

* * *

><p>.~*~.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> So.. three months. Whoops. Honestly? I've never, ever written an ending before, especially not to something this long. I'd estimate there's only 3 or 4 chapters left in this story, and I'm having more trouble than I'd expected with pacing and side plots and all that fun conclusion stuff. I have never had a chapter go through so many rewrites and changed scenes. Fun fact: I hadn't even through to include Soundwave in this story until Christmas Day, and using the Coneheads came even later (this chapter went from boring Ark scenes to Jazz spying on the Laserbeak event to the Coneheads escaping but acting too much like TC, aka reasonable and willing to negotiate, to what you see here. Suffice to say, I like this version much better, even if I'm not completely happy with it). The next chapter has already been started and is coming along much easier, so it should be posted quicker than the last few chapters have been.


	27. The Refinery

Tangled Destiny

Chapter 27: The Refinery

* * *

><p>…<p>

* * *

><p>An orn later, when Starscream's project was starting to look like an actual weapon instead of a jumble of parts, they were working in the lab when Wheeljack suddenly stiffened, and his indicator panels swirled through a spectrum of colors. He set down the power cell he'd been fiddling with, nearly dropping it in his haste, and turned to them.<p>

Starscream let the capacitor he'd been tinkering with thump to the table and gave Wheeljack his full attention. "What happened?" he asked.

Wheeljack absentmindedly started clearing his desk as he answered. "We just got wind of a Decepticon attack in the works." He paused and, with an apologetic flicker of his panels, said, "It would probably be best if you stay in your rooms 'till it all blows over."

"But I-" Starscream started, stepping forward. Skyfire caught his arm before he moved more than a few steps.

"Let's go," he said. "We should meet up with Skywarp and Thundercracker before anything else." It was true-he hated the thought of being separated from any of his Seekers in situations like these-but he mostly just wanted to get Starscream away from the others before he managed to convince someone to bring him along.

Starscream paused as worry crossed his spark then relented. "Fine," he growled, then he spun around and set a brisk pace towards the door. As they left, Skyfire saw Wheeljack rummaging through the stack of various weapons and prototypes, mumbling quietly to himself.

The halls of the Ark were bustling with activity as seemingly every mech on the ship scurried to and fro, and nobody paid any mind to the Seeker and Shuttle pushing their way through the throng. The crowds thinned around them as they drew closer to their quarters until alone as they keyed open the door. Skywarp and Thundercracker were already there. They'd had their heads tilted together as they spoke, but they fell silent as the door opened.

Starscream walked right up to them. "Do you know what's going on?" he asked, a challenge more than a question.

Thundercracker nodded. "About a cycle ago, the Autobots received a datapacket containing the 'Cons attack plans for a nearby refinery."

"Sounds like a trap," Starscream said immediately.

Thundercracker hummed an acknowledgement. "Perhaps," he agreed. "Jazz seems to think it's legit though, or at least worth the risk. We'll find out whether he's right soon enough."

Starscream scoffed, unimpressed. "Do you know who sent it?" he asked. Thundercracker shook his head, and Starscream pressed on. "You have a guess though, don't you. You think it was _him_."

Skyfire remained silent as the conversation steadily devolved into an argument. Something about the way Thundercracker was standing seemed different. He watched as Thundercracker shifted his weight, trying to put a name to the odd, insistent impression. Both Thundercracker and Skywarp were stealing glances at the door and seemed oddly tense. Then Skyfire caught sight of the plating on their arms, and the pieces clicked into place.

"You've had your weapons reinstalled," he said, interrupting Starscream's rant. "You're planning on fighting with the 'bots this time, aren't you."

Now that he knew what to look for, he could make out a half dozen signs written on their frames. The plating on their arms were scuffed and had thin, almost invisible scratches marring the transformation seams of their weapon mounts. Even their balance had shifted due to the added weight.

Thundercracker didn't deny anything, which was answer enough. It only took a moment for Starscream's shock to wear off, and he stalked even closer to Thundercracker. With their faces only inches apart, he hissed, "Don't. You. _Dare_. You are not leaving, especially not without me!"

Thundercracker gently pushed Starscream back again. "There's no point in hanging back anymore," he offered as an explanation. "The Autobots could use the air support, especially now that the 'Cons have lost their best two Trines."

"Besides," Skywarp added. "It's not as if we're gonna get all torn up about fighting Megatron. The sooner he gets taken out, the better off we'll all be."

Starscream looked between them, still furious but outnumbered. "Then I'm coming with you," he declared.

"No," Thundercracker said immediately. "You don't have the right training for a battlefield. You don't even have any weapons."

"But I've got-"

Thundercracker interrupted him, as immovable as steel. "Not this time. I'm sorry." He tried to smile. "I know you're worried, but it's a routine mission. We'll be fine.

Rage boiled in Starscream's spark, and Skyfire was sure he was going to keep arguing. Instead, he slammed a wall down on his emotions and turned away. "Fine," he spat. "I'll be in the labs. At least then I can get some work done instead of waiting here while you run off and have all the fun."

"Star-" Thundercracker started, reaching a hand out to him, but the door to their quarters slammed closed before he could say anything else. Thundercracker sighed, and his hand fell back down to his side.

"I'll keep an optic on him," Skyfire said, staring at the closed door. He sighed and turned back to the others. "You two should probably head out. You don't want to miss the departure"

They nodded halfheartedly, and Skywarp put his hand on Thundercracker's shoulder. Before they 'ported away, Thundercracker turned to him and said, "Let Starscream know that I'll talk to Jazz when we get back about getting him some integrated weapons. He shouldn't be unarmed. Neither of you should."

With that, the two disappeared in a telltale puff of purple smoke, leaving Skyfire alone. He didn't move as the haze slowly dissipated, trying to ignore the sharp pang in his spark. He'd hoped that, after leaving the 'Cons, he'd never need to watch the Seekers head off to war again. It never got easier watching them go fight. knowing they could be injured or deactivated and he couldn't do anything.

He lingered in the room for several more breems, both to regain control of his own emotions and give Starscream a chance to cool off. He'd prefer not to get into an argument just then, which was the only thing Starscream wanted to do when his emotions were raw.

The halls of the Ark were oddly empty now, with everyone either out for the ambush, holed up in the Security room, or prepping the Medbay. He reached the labs then paused outside the doors with one hand hovering above the keypad. Starscream was still blocking the bond, but he could feel the slow simmer of anger behind the barrier.

With one last, deep breath, Skyfire opened the door and stepped inside. The lights were dimmed, casting deep shadows across the floor. All was silent, making the steady pulse of his spark seem loud in his audios. Icy fear took root in his chest as he scanned the room. The workbench was empty of everything save a handful of scraps.

Starscream was gone.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Skyfire roared past the halfway point to the refinery. His engines strained as he pushed them past their tolerances, eking out every last ounce of speed his frame was capable of. It wasn't enough. Starscream was the fastest Seeker alive; he wouldn't be caught unless he wanted to be.

He tried to open a 'Com channel to Thundercracker but, just like the last dozen times, the transmission fizzled away before it could connect. Either the battle had begun and Thundercracker was too busy to answer or someone had activated a dampener field. With only a moment's hesitation, he tried Jazz's next. Nothing. A dampener field then.

Growling, he sent another sharp blast of frustration to batter against the blocked bond. Nothing. Starscream ignored him-again-and the mental block held strong. Skyfire didn't give up. He kept slamming against the block with the full brunt of his fear and fury as he raced across the open sky.

He only slowed down as he approached the more densely wooded area surrounding the refinery. As he throttled his engines, the faint sounds of a battlefield drifted towards him. He transformed, sacrificing speed for maneuverability, and drifted lower until his feet skimmed the treetops of the forest below. He stayed there, swerving between outstretched limbs, and continued following the pull off the bond. His sensors remained alert, searching for any sign of the other fighters. For now, at least, the other mecha were further ahead, and the bond guided him along the outskirts of the property.

A powerful flare of surprise burst across the suddenly active bond, quickly followed by thick tendrils of fear. For a moment, the bond gaped wide open. Skyfire immediately took advantage. He threw himself against the edge of the bond and forced a single, simple demand across it.

_WHERE!_

He didn't get a verbal answer, but the bond remained open. He followed its pull towards a small clearing near the far edge of the refinery. Large metallic frames crashed loudly through the brush below. Skyfire approached carefully. Engines silent, he peeked over the edge of the treetops, hoping the fighters were too preoccupied to glanced up. His optics immediately landed on Starscream. The Seeker had been cornered by a blocky black Tankformer who Skyfire vaguely recognized as Brawl, a member of Megatron's most recent Gestalt. His partners didn't seem to be nearby.

Brawl was toying with Starscream. He chased him around the small clearing, blocking his attempts at flight and swatting him around without causing any real damage. Starscream held his stunner loosely in one hand, but he wasn't even trying to aim it at his attacker as he frantically danced away. Skyfire's engines growled. He only had a small blaster he'd nicked from the labs, not nearly strong enough to cause real damage, and Brawl was a more experienced fighter. He'd only get one chance.

Thoroughly distracted by his game, Brawl didn't even notice Skyfire's approach, not even as Skyfire silently hovered almost directly above his helm. Skyfire waited until Starscream was out of range and cut his engines, allowing all 200 tons of his frame to plummet downwards.

He collided with Brawl head on, sending both of them crashing to the ground. Brawl shouted in surprise as their limbs tangled together. Somehow, Skyfire managed to stay on top, and they ended up on the ground with the full weight of Skyfire's frame pinning Brawl face first in the dirt.

Tanks had a thin section of plating on their shoulder blades to account for the extra mass shifting there during transformation. Skyfire pulled back and, with the full force of his hydraulics, punched through the even thinner seam. His knuckles protested the impact, but it worked. The plating bucked under his fist then gave way completely. Skyfire immediately grabbed a fistful of wires and _yanked_.

Brawl screamed.

Energon squelched under Skyfire's fingers and ran down Brawl's side in thick rivulets. He gave Brawl's innards another twist and felt sparks of electricity dance across his knuckles as something important tore. Then Brawl's left arm came back, fast enough that Skyfire didn't have time to block before he was thrown to the ground. Something crunched in Skyfire's shoulder, sending pain ricocheting up his arm. He ignored it, scrambling to right himself again. Brawl stood up, roaring in pain and fury. His right arm hung limply by his side, twitching sporadically from interrupted signals, and Skyfire had to scramble backwards to avoid the Tank's left fist. Brawl's left leg fritzed and almost gave out on him, giving Skyfire the critical kliks he needed to find his feet again. He immediately rushed the Tank, trying to take advantage of his stumble.

A second blow caught Skyfire in the chest, but it was weak, barely enough to dent the plating. He shrugged it off and continued forward, managing to get one good blow in before Brawl got his guard back up. They circled each other warily, waiting for an opening, and worry spread through Skyfire's chest. Even damaged, Brawl was the better fighter. Without the advantage of surprise, he'd be nearly impossible to beat.

Then a warcry sounded behind Brawl, and Starscream jumped back into the fight. He threw himself against Brawl's unprotected back and latched on. One arm tightened around Brawl's neck, and the other disappeared downward. Brawl shouted and jerked away as new energon splashed against the ground. Starscream had managed to dig his claws into Brawl's damaged shoulder, tearing deeper into the unprotected wiring beneath. The Tank's remaining hand flailed behind him as he tried to dislodge Starscream, but Starscream clung on and dug his claws deeper. Skyfire took advantage of the distraction to make his move.

He might not have a real weapon, but a medic's hands were upgraded for many different situations. So Skyfire activated a minor transformation sequence in his left hand, bringing forward a small blade sharp enough to slice through most plating. Brawl was moving too fast for real precision, but, by this point, Skyfire wasn't worried about collateral damage.

With Starscream's distraction, it only took an astrosecond. He lunged forward, and his blade bit into the thin plating of Brawl's neck. The Tank didn't even flinch before his optics darkened and his frame collapsed into stasis. Starscream untangled himself from the falling frame and landed gracefully on the ground. A shaky, triumphant grin spread slowly across his face as he looked down at the unconscious Tank.

Shaking with adrenaline, Skyfire turned to his bondmate. Starscream's pride immediately fizzled against his anger. "You are holding probably the most powerful stunner ever built," Skyfire growled. "Why the _slag_ didn't you use it!"

Starscream flinched back, and his knuckles tightened over the handle of the weapon. "He wasn't Megatron," Starscream muttered sullenly.

"So what?" Skyfire exploded. "He was trying to kill you, Starscream! He could have succeeded. He was toying with you, and you just-"

Starscream lurched forward and shoved him, forcing Skyfire to stumble backwards. "I didn't want to deactivate him!" Starscream shouted back. Burning crimson finally met Skyfire's optics as Starscream bared his fangs.

"Deactivate?" Skyfire mouthed to himself. Realization crept over him, dark and sour. Louder, he said, "Starscream… you designed a stunner. Right?"

Starscream winced. His anger fizzled into something resembling guilt. "Technically yes?" he tried, shifting his weight. "I created a weapon that acted directly on the currents and patterns of a spark. The original schematics-the ones I showed Wheeljack-was designed to directly shock the spark into temporary stasis. Normally, if a charge gets high enough, the spark just dumps the excess. At certain frequencies, however, the spark gets disrupted instead, which tends to be a bit more… permanent."

With a deep breath, Skyfire reminded himself that they were still beside an active battlefield. And that strangling his bondmate was inadvisable in the best circumstances. "You turned your Stunner into a death ray," Skyfire summed up. He was proud of how controlled his voice sounded.

Starscream cringed and glanced away. "Well, when you put it that way, it just sounds ugly," he muttered.

Skyfire offlined his optics and allowed himself one klik to despair over the entire situation. Then he onlined them again. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't drag you back to the Ark and lock you inside our quarters for the next vorn," he rumbled. Starscream jerked in surprise and took a half-step backwards, as if he were thinking about running away again. Skyfire was waiting. His hand closed on the outstretched angle of Starscream's wing, holding him in place.

"You can't!" Starscream squawked. "I haven't even gotten a chance to use it yet!"

"Yet you've already been attacked without even getting near your target. I'm sure the Autobots and their _very experienced Snipers_ will be happy to use it."

Starscream recoiled, face twisted in disgust. "Like slag I'm handing this over to them!" he hissed. "If I was willing to let them have this, then I would have just handed Wheeljack the updated schematic and been done with it!"

Skyfire blinked, surprised, and his grip on Starscream's wing loosened. "You don't trust them," he realized.

"Course not!" Starscream snorted. "Not with a weapon like this. They've been fighting this war for as long as the 'Cons, and look where it's gotten them. Pit, I wouldn't trust anyone but myself with it. What's to stop them from using it again on someone else?" He huffed, crossing his arms. "I made this to destroy Megatron, not anyone else. I'm not gonna let this become just another weapon for their war."

That was… honestly a much more mature reason than Skyfire had expected. Against his will, Skyfire was impressed. Of course, that didn't mean he had changed his mind. "You still haven't given me a reason not to fly us both back to the Ark right now. The 'bots will survive without your new weapon."

Starscream's face darkened as his spark settled into a familiar, stubborn determination. "If you force me back now, I'll just sneak out again later," he warned.

"No you wouldn't," Skyfire countered immediately. "After this stunt, I'm not letting you out of my sight again for the next vorn. You wouldn't get five feet away from the Ark before I caught you again."

"You can't watch me all the time!"

"Yes I can." He was patient. He'd do it.

Starscream must have sensed the truth in that statement, because his face darkened. "Slag you!" Starscream growled. "I'm sick of being treated like a helpless sparkling!"

Reaching up, Starscream did something to Skyfire's wrist that made his fingers jerk, allowing Starscream's wing to slip free of his grasp. Then, before Skyfire could stop him, Starscream spun around and took off between the trees.

"Starscream! Wait!" Skyfire shouted as loudly as he dared. His bondmate predictably ignored him. Cursing, Skyfire followed him through the brush. Branches caught on his limbs and tugged at his plating, allowing Starscream's smaller frame to pull ahead.

As he ran, he caught a brief glimpse of the building through the trees. Several mecha moved across the grass in familiar battle formations, and part of the building had seemingly been blown apart to allow access to its internals. Then the sight was gone, hidden behind thicker canopy once again. Starscream lead him in a wide arc along the outer edges of the factory. Thankfully, it was away from the worst of the fighting, and the noises of combat slowly faded away. Starscream began slow as they approached the distant edge of the building, finally allowing Skyfire to catch up.

"Starscream!" Skyfire called out, ducking between the branches until he had a clear path to the Seeker. "Stop this! It's too dangerous for you to be here!" He reached out, intending to grab Starscream before he could run away again.

Starscream spun away from him. As he turned, Skyfire glimpsed his face, and he was stunned by the powerful anger lurking there. Then Starscream lunged forward and slugged him in the jaw. Skyfire stumbled back, too surprised to react.

"You don't get to decide that!" Starscream shouted. His wings arched high above his back, and his claws dug into his palm. "It's my choice to make! Not yours, not my Trinemats, _mine_." Skyfire moved to argue, and Starscream cut him off with a sharp gesture."I get it, alright? I slagging know it's dangerous! I know that everyone's a crazy combat veteran now and I'll never be strong enough to beat them. Believe me, you've made that very clear." He took a deep breath, throttling back his anger, and continued at a more normal volume. "I know the risks. I've prepared for them! And I'm not just running blindly into the fight like you seem to think I am."

"You can't plan for everything, Star," Skyfire said, rubbing his aching jaw. He took a careful step forward, then froze when Starscream tensed. Looks like they'd have to do this the slow way. He continued. "You've already stumbled across one 'Con, and you haven't even reached the main battlefield. It'll only get worse from here."

Starscream just shrugged. "So I got off to a rocky start. It happens."

"Don't brush this off!" Skyfire said sharply. "If Brawl had been smarter, he would have deactivated you immediately instead of toying with you! That's not a setback, that's _dead_!"

Starscream crossed his arms and squared his shoulders, mulishly settling in for a confrontation. "And you really think I'm safer in the ship?" he demanded. "It's a war! What happens if we lose? Or if the 'Cons decide to attack the Ark? They're not gonna leave me alone just because I don't know how to fight."

"At least the ship has defenses. Out here, a stray shot could kill you in an astrosecond." He sighed and reached out a hand, palm up, for Starscream to take. "Just… come back to the ship with me. Please. Then we can talk about-"

"No. I've made my decision, Skyfire!" he said. He took a deep breath as something oddly like regret passed across his face. Then, slower, he continued. "If you ignore me… If you force me back and lock me up in that smelting _cage_ of a ship to keep me 'safe,' then I'll never forgive you."

Stunned, Skyfire let his hand fall. Starscream… seemed serious. It took a long, painful moment for that thought to sink in. Bewildered, he reached out, brushing carefully against Starscream's side of the bond. Starscream let him in, but he kept his own spark curled in on itself instead of flowing through the bond. Indignant fury coated everything in vivid lines, mixed with threads of heavy resignation and pain. Skyfire flinched away, shame creeping through his chest. Why hadn't he noticed this earlier? Starscream was hurting-was willing to risk their _bond_, and he'd just brushed it aside.

"I just wanted to protect you," he said. His voice sounded so small, as if coming from a much different mech.

The fury seemed to leave Starscream in one big gust of air. The strict hold he'd held over his spark energy relaxed, allowing tendrils of energy to seep back into the bond. "I know," he sighed. The resignation on his face was almost worse than the fury. "I get what happened and why you're all so stupidly overprotective now. I don't blame you for that." He lifted his head, and some steel returned to his voice. "That doesn't give you permission to treat me like I'm useless though. You can't protect me from everything. I don't even want you to try!"

Skyfire wanted to protest, but the words wouldn't come. He offlined his optics, mentally flipping through how'd he'd been treating Starscream for the last few orns. He didn't much like what he saw. Most of it was good, _happy_ even, but whenever something dangerous popped up… He'd ignored what Starscream wanted. Pit, they'd stopped even listening to his suggestions as soon he hinted it might put him in danger. No wonder Starscream didn't trust him anymore. They'd gone beyond protecting him into trying to coddle the Seeker instead.

"You're right," he admitted. Starscream's optics shot up as surprise lightened his spark. Skyfire's spark sank with shame at the suspicion-aimed at _him_-that lingered. "It was wrong of me to take your choice away from you. I… I trust your judgement. I trust _you_. And I'm sorry for making you doubt that."

"I still think coming here alone was a bad idea, but I won't stop you. Not like that," he continued. The promise was difficult to make, but Starscream's reaction made it worth it. "But I will be coming with you! And if I give you an order, you slagging well better listen. I know these mecha better than you, and I need you to obey to me if I say something or someone is too dangerous. Even if it means abandoning the mission"

Starscream's face lit up as he smiled-one of the rare, almost innocent grins-and his spark lit up, brighter and happier than Skyfire could remember him being in _orns_. "I can live with that," he said. He started to reach forward before stopping and turning back towards the refinery. "C'mon, he said. "We've got work to do,"

The dense trees stretched almost to the edges of the building, providing some cover, but Skyfire continued scanning their surroundings. So far as he could tell, the other mecha all seemed to have gone inside or clustered around the front entrance. Good. At least something was going right

"I downloaded the floorplan of the refinery before I left," Starscream explained as he crept along the empty sides of the building. The smooth metal stretched far above even Skyfire's head, though it paled in comparison to true Cybertronian architecture. Small panes of glass dotted the sides, reflecting sunlight in flickering waves.

With only a single, perfunctory scan of their surroundings, Starscream stepped out from the treeline and approached the building. Skyfire followed more cautiously, shooting out several scans and eyeing the exposed sky suspiciously. Starscream was fiddling with a large sheet of segmented metal that seemed embedded in the wall. The snap of a thin metal chain breaking was followed by Starscream's proud exclamation. Then Starscream dug his claws under the bottom of the odd panel and lifted, pulling the sheet up to fold against the rest of the wall.

"It's a delivery door," Starscream explained, shooting Skyfire a smug smirk as he hefted the metal higher. "It's designed to let large vehicles through. We should have no problem here, though some areas might get cramped later on."

Starscream ducked under the strange door easily. Skyfire had to bend over further to make it, though he was able to straighten almost completely once inside. He ducked slightly to avoid scraping the ceiling, but, considering the normal size of the organics' structures, it was a surprisingly large room. Pallets of various materials were strewn around them, forcing Skyfire to step carefully, but otherwise the delivery bay was silent and empty. Perfect for sneaking.

Daylight leaked around the metal door even after Starscream sent it ratting closed, and a bare handful of dimly flickering light bulbs illuminated patches of the bay. Starscream beckoned him towards one of the hallways branching off the main room.

"So what's the plan?" Skyfire asked, following Starscream deeper into the building. The halls were a tighter fit, but he managed.

"We're gonna surprise them," Starscream said. He had to angle his wings backwards to keep them from scraping against the walls, but the close quarters hadn't dampened his enthusiasm at all. "The 'Cons broke into the main floor, where most of the energy is processed. Behind it, there's a delivery area and some smaller machinery. That's where we're headed."

"And once we're there?"

Starscream smiled at him, sharp and restless. A flicker in his wings betrayed his nervousness. "We'll sneak in through the back. There's all sorts of entrances and leveled walkways there." His hand moved across the barrel of his blaster, almost caressing the metal. "One good shot. That's all I need."

Starscream slowed as they neared an intersection. He crept closer towards the corner to peek around it. He hadn't even gone five steps before Skyfire's scans, which had been running passively since he'd entered, alerted him to something approaching them from one of the other hallways.

"Get back!" Skyfire hissed. Starscream jumped then hurried back. Skyfire pulled them further away from the intersection as he tracked the energy signature. It was a distinctively Cybertronian signature, though a small one: a minibot, most likely, or maybe a Cassetticon. And it was definitely getting closer. He tensed as the signature approached the intersection, readying his stolen blaster for a fight. He caught a glimpse of a blue blur, barely taller than an Organic, sprinting past the opening. He was gone just as quickly as he'd appeared. Hadn't even glanced towards them. Skyfire cautiously relaxed, though he kept his blaster ready.

"Who was that?" Starscream asked.

"It looked like a Cassetticon. Rumble, if I'm not mistaken," Skyfire answered. Few mecha were that small, and even fewer that color. "It's strange that he's back here instead of in the middle of the fight." He kept his scanners focused on the blip of energy until it passed out of range. Only then did he cautiously start moving forward again.

"Well, judging by the direction of that hallway, he probably came from one. That should lead right to the main production floor ," Starscream said. "Is he one of Soundwaves?"

Skyfire nodded. "He's one of the Host's two bipedal Cassettes. Got along well with Skywarp." And really, that said all Starscream needed to know about his character.

"I'm surprised Soundwave let him out of his sight so soon," Starscream mused quietly. Then he shrugged it off and kept walking.

Their pace slowed as they grew closer to their destination. Conversation trickled away as the tension around them grew. Skyfire strained his audios and sent out waves of scans, alert for any sign of a threat. The background sounds of the building hummed around them. Gradually, they were overshadowed by faint clanging sounds and the low, distinctive whine of blaster fire. They were getting close.

The hallway widened, and soon enough Starscream stopped them at another set of wide double doors. He paused in front of them with his hand against the metal, scanning the room ahead.

"It's clear," he said, pushing the doors open. "Nothing living in there at all." The doors locked open with a quiet click, and they stepped inside. The new room was tall enough to fly in and crisscrossed with suspended walkways. Tall machines still humming with electricity filled the space. From the far end, faint, tiny echoes of battle drifted across, carried to them through distant doorways. Starscream led them towards the sounds of fighting, weaving around the scattered machinery. Although the distant din grew louder, no flashes of color or movement appeared. They were alone.

"A couple small passages connect us to the main refining floor," Starscream said. "We just need to get up to the catwalks, and we'll have a perfect vantage point to-"

An earthshattering explosion cut him off. Metal rattled around them and dust fell from the ceiling in scattered clumps. "The slag-" Starscream shrieked, clutching his helm. Feedback rang in Skyfire's audios, but he could still hear a familiar roar building in the other room.

"Move!" Skyfire shouted. He didn't wait for Starscream to answer. Grabbing Starscream around the waist, he turned and ran. He had some vague notion of shielding themselves in the hallway or at least behind a machine, but they ran out of time. Glass shattered behind him, and the roar of flames grew louder. With heat already prickling against his back, Skyfire pulled Starscream to his chest and curled around his frame, protecting the Seeker as best he could.

Then the shockwave hit. Fire licked around him, and the wave of heated air physically lifted him up and threw him forward. He only had one panicked moment to scramble for control before they collided with something, and the impact sent him spiralling offline.

* * *

><p>…<p>

Consciousness returned slowly. Skyfire was lying on something hard and, when he shifted, broken glass bit into his cheek. He groaned. Small bits of debris slid off his back and wings as he stumbled towards coherence. The plating along his back burned with every movement. heat-damaged metal protested the movement. The feedback ringing in his audios slowly faded, and the pain from heat-damaged metal dwindled into a dull ache.

Something shifted underneath him, and a very familiar voice groaned in discomfort. A hand reached up to Skyfire's chest and pushed weakly. Skyfire managed to leverage himself up to his hands and knees while his back throbbed discomfort at him. Bleary red optics stared up at him, and an annoyed frown decorated Starscream's face.

"Thought I toldja not t' protect me anymore," Starscream slurred. He weakly thumped Skyfire's plating with a closed fist to show his displeasure before glancing around in muzzy confusion.

Skyfire waited a moment for his gyros to stabilize before pushing himself upright. "My armors thicker than yours. It was the logical thing to do," he said as he helped Starscream up. Casting his optics around them, he winced at what he saw. Fluid dripped and electricity sparked from where the shockwave had shattered machinery. Dust and rubble coated everything, and small fires smouldered in the corners. The walls still seemed stable, if rather scorched.

"It came from the other room," Skyfire said. His voice seemed to echo in the ruined room. "Mecha were in there." As much as he strained his audios, he couldn't hear fighting anymore. The main room was silent; Skyfire's spark seized in panic.

He took off for the main room in a dead run. He didn't have a plan-was barely thinking at all. But there were damaged-possibly _deactivated_ mecha over there, and he might be able to help. Barely squeezing through the small hallway, Skyfire emerged into the remnants of the main floor.

The silence was the first thing he noticed. The explosion had thrown everything into chaos, from the rubble everywhere to the sickly glow of spilled energon, but it was silent as a tomb. Particles hung thickly in the air and blanketed the ground as it dust and rubble meant he could barely see twenty feet in front of him. Skyfire shuddered.

Movement caught his optic, and something groaned. Skyfire turned to see a few dust coated mecha stirring, looking just as disoriented as Skyfire felt. More were still prone on the ground. The grey dust made them look disturbingly like corpses. Skyfire darted towards the closest mech, who was sparking sporadically from his side. Laying on the ground and gray with grime, even his faction was indiscernible.

Starscream stopped him. "Megatron first," he ordered, voice soft but hard as steel.

"But-"

"If Megatron survives, then it'll all be for nothing! They'll all be back here, doing the exact same thing in an orn if we don't end this!"

Much as Skyfire hated it, Starscream was right. Bad as it looked, this battlefield wasn't any worse than the others on Earth and far better than most on Cybertron. Treating superficial wounds wouldn't change anything, no matter how much his spark protested.

"I… fine," he said. Even knowing it was the best choice, it took willpower to turn away and follow Starscream away.

As they moved, he got his first good look at the room. It was larger than the first one and broken up by low walls and several, now broken machines. One large beast of twisted metal and melted plastic dominated the center. Energon glittered across it, more than a half-dozen mecha could lose without deactivating, and Skyfire's spark twisted. But there were no broken frames or torn parts strewn around it, and a moment later Skyfire realized the spilled energon must have come from spilled containers or the machine itself, not living lines. Judging by the mecha strewn around it-unconscious but not heavily damaged-they'd been draining the machine of energy before the explosion.

The two crept along the outer wall, as far away from the others as possible. The few mecha online were too busy with their own problems to notice the dirty figures sneaking behind them. Skyfire scanned the chaos for Megatron or any high ranking 'Con, but they only passed other grunts. Skyfire wasn't surprised. Most likely, Megatron would be near the epicenter of the explosion. The faction leaders always seemed to end up in the middle of things.

The further they walked, the worse the damage became, turning from minor burns and collision damage to twisted plating and fused lines. Heat damage was an ugly thing-excruciatingly painful and debilitating though, thankfully, rarely lethal. Cauterized fuel lines prevented lethal fluid loss, and thick, heat-resistant armor protected the spark and processer. The worse off mecha wouldn't be waking up anytime soon, but they would survive.

Starscream pressed closely against him, and Skyfire was abruptly reminded that, despite his bravado, the Seeker had never actually experienced a battlefield like this before.

"Who the Pit did this?" Starscream murmured. His voice barely shook at all. "Looks like they hit the 'Bots and the 'Cons together. Nobody wins."

"Maybe it was an accident. Or maybe someone's playing at their own game," Skyfire said. "It's a war. Unexpected things happen." Hopefully, whatever it was wouldn't interfere with their own plans.

Up ahead, the factory wall had completely collapsed, leaving the floor open to the outside. They had to pick their way around a pile of smoldering wood and fires still burned, which Skyfire smothered where he could. They passed under a mass of tangled piplines, and the floor opened up in front of them. There, cradled inside a crumbling concrete barrier, lay a very familiar silhouette: Optimus Prime. Even half buried in rubble, his bulk was unmistakable. And where Optimus was, Megatron wasn't far behind.

Skyfire spared a quick diagnostic for the Prime. His vitals were stable, though he was deeply unconscious. His armor had shielded his internals from any critical damage but not much else. Even from a distance, broken and deformed plating were clearly visible. It would take a long stay in the med-bay and several replacement parts before he was fully functional again.

The explosion seemed to have centered inside what was once some kind of control panel. Now, it was just a twisted hunk of metal, scorched and gutted by the blast. The concrete around it had shattered, and various scraps littered the ground. A crumbled path through the rubble marked where the shockwave had thrown the Prime. A second trail extended in the opposite direction. It wasn't hard to guess who Prime had been grappling with when the bomb went off.

"He can't have gone far." Starscream muttered, searching the gloom. "Not with the kind of damage this would have caused. I just-"

Something crunched behind them. Panic welled in Skyfire's spark as he spun around. He wasn't fast enough,

He turned just in time to see the fist coming. His head snapped back, and pain radiated across his helm. He felt his optic crack, and his vision fragmented. Starscream shrieked-an audiosplitting sound of shock. On instinct, Skyfire threw up his arm, and he somehow caught the next blow against the thicker plating. His arm went numb from the force.

Skyfire glimpsed something grey and pink through his glitching optics. Backpedaling, he managed to divert the following blows, but it was a close thing. He couldn't seem to find his balance, and the blows came one after another. His arms ached with the first inklings of true pain as the metal started to buckle. He wouldn't last much longer.

Across the bond, Starscream was panicking. His spark twisted with indecision and worry. Skyfire blasted caution at him, and Starscream thankfully didn't jump into the brawl half-cocked. Of course, he refused to remain a bystander for long. His spark finally solidified into a rather queasy determination after the next blow flew past Skyfire's defenses, skimming his cheek.

"Skyfire, get down!" Starscream shouted.

Skyfire dropped. A blaster whined, louder and deeper than normal, and he could feel Starscream tense. Skyfire looked up in time to see Starscream pull the trigger. The energy beam was darker than usual: a deep red instead of lavender. It spiraled towards Megatron, who'd turned to stare at the sound of Starscream's voice.

Megatron dodged.

The crimson beam soared past his chest, not even a foot away from grey plating, and collided with a storage container behind them. The energy didn't dissipate against the metal like a normal blaster beam; instead, it seemed to shatter instead, raining down to the ground. Skyfire's sensor net fritzed where the shockwave landed, an odd mix of pain and numbness.

It only took Megatron three steps to reach Starscream. Starscream stumbled back and tried to raise the blaster up for a second shot, but Megatron was faster. He backhanded Starscream, sending the Seeker's lithe frame flying with one blow. The rifle flew out of his hands as his back hit a wall. Something crunched, and Starscream crumpled to the ground.

"Starscream!" Skyfire shouted. No answer. Across the bond, his spark still burned strong, but it flickered on the edge of stasis. Skyfire clambered unsteadily to his feet, preparing to charge over, but Megatron didn't press his advantage. Instead, the Warlord just stood there, swaying lightly, and Skyfire got his first good look at his frame.

Megatron hadn't escaped the explosion unscathed; Skyfire was almost surprised he was still standing. Megatron's entire side was mangled from the explosion. Plating and circuitry had fused together, and electricity crackled across the damage, indicating internal damage. Energon dribbled down his side from an uncauterized line. Then Megatron turned back towards him. His face twisted in fury, and he lunged forward.

Skyfire barely had time to cry out before he was thrown against the storage container. The back of his head collided with the metal, then something tightened around his neck, pinning him in place. His hands flew to his throat, and he struggled to relieve the pressure.

Megatron's furious face filled Skyfire's working optic. He leaned close enough to feel the heat wafting off his damaged frame.

"Traitor!" he hissed, slurring the words. "You slagging... Your fault! Shoulda just killed you back on Cybertron."

His fusion cannon whined, struggling to charge. Skyfire panicked. He lashed out with his legs and somehow managed to connect with Megatron's damaged side. Megatron roared in pain, and his hold loosened. Wrenching himself free, Skyfire stumbled away, trying to put some distance between them.

Megatron's face twisted in fury, even as one hand clutched at his damaged side, now sluggishly leaking energon. He tensed as if to charge, and Skyfire awkwardly raised his fists in preparation. Then Megatron's gaze slid sideways, and confusion flickered across his face. After a moment, Skyfire followed his gaze.

Soundwave strode through the destruction as if the rubble and chaos didn't exist. His clean, colorful frame almost seemed to glow beside the dusty grey grime coating everything else. His visor flickered towards him, and Skyfire felt a small, almost imperceptible pressure in his processer. It disappeared almost immediately, and Soundwave turned back towards Megatron. Skyfire shuddered.

"You?" Megatron gasped. "Even you, Soundwave?" Static overlayed his words, and confusion quickly gave way to fury. "Treason. You slagging _traitor_. " Megatron hissed.

Soundwave tilted his head, seemingly unaffected by Megatron's rage. "Negative," he said. His tone was void of inflection as always, but something dark glimmered in his visor. "Megatron: Betrayed Soundwave. Rewarded loyalty with death." His visor flashed, and he stepped forward. "Megatron: _Lied_."

Megatron snapped. His energo sword appeared in his hand, summoned from subspace, and he swung it wildly at the Telepath. Soundwave dodged the uncontrolled slash easily. Without a sound, Soundwave summoned his own blade and smoothly deflected the next one. Furious, Megatron pressed the attack with sweeping hacks, using his sword like a blunt instrument instead of the elegant weapon it was. He didn't come close to touching Soundwave. Soundwave baited him with every effortless dodge and casual deflection, letting Megatron wear himself out in his anger.

"I gave you purpose!" Megatron roared as they finally locked blades. "You were slaves without me. I saved you ungrateful drones, and this is how you repay me?"

Soundwave didn't deign to answer him. Then, for the first time, Soundwave took the offense. His sword shot out towards Megatron's weak side, forcing the Warlord off-balance as he blocked. He followed up with a swift, sweeping kick to the legs. Megatron went crashing to the ground. Soundwave loomed over him, his unmarred platting a sharp contrast to the Warlord's half-crippled frame.

"Megatron: Promised equality! Prosperity!" he rumbled, showing more emotion than Skyfire had seen from him before. His hand tightened on the hilt, and he pointed the sword tip towards Megatron's helm. "Delivered: unending war instead. Extinction: approaching."

"It needed to burn!"

The words rang out across the destroyed battlefield, echoing from the collapsed rubble to the damaged, stasis-ridden mecha. In that moment, Megatron seemed almost feral. Energon streaked his frame like warpaint and shadows danced across his frame. His fangs were bared, and he stared up at Soundwave with murder written on his face. Looking at him, Skyfire couldn't find any trace of the eloquent, charismatic leader that had started the Rebellion. That mech hadn't existed in decavorns, if he ever had at all.

Soundwave stepped forward and readied his blade. "Megatron: Unsuitable for command. Soundwave: Superior."

Megatron roared, inarticulate with fury, and sprang forward before Soundwave could complete his swing. Something small flashed in his hand, and then Megatron was burying a dagger into Soundwave's thigh. Soundwave faltered, and Megatron immediately swung his energo sword toward the Host's chest. Soundwave recovered quickly, blocking the strike before it connected, but energon dripped down his leg from the blade still buried in his thigh. With Soundwave effectively hobbled, the fight was much more balanced. Soundwave still seemed to have the upper hand, but it was a close thing. Despite his injuries, Megatron was the better fighter, especially in close combat. He was a former Gladiator, experienced in fighting despite severe damage

As the two crashed together, Skyfire finally shook off whatever spell had rooted him to the floor as the two warriors fought. He took advantage of the distraction to get as far away from both of them as he could. He ran towards where Starscream had fallen. Even streaked with grime, the Seeker's colors were easy to make out. Starscream was already stirring, clutching at his helm and using the wall to inch upright. Skyfire pulled him upright and steadied him through the vertigo.

Starscream's hand flew to his side, but his fingers scrambled against empty air. "My rifle! Where..." he rasped, casting his optics around them. His gaze passed over the fighting mecha, but he quickly dismissed the new arrival. His feet stabilized under him, and he pulled away from Skyfire's side.

"I'm not sure," Skyfire admitted. "But it can't have traveled far." He'd seen the weapon fall when Megatron attacked them but, with the debris covering the floor, he couldn't make out where it had fallen. Skyfire's optics darted behind them, to the collapsed outer wall nearby. "We should go. I'm sure Soundwave will-"

"Slag no!" Starscream hissed. "We've come this far, I'm not running away now!" He leaned forward, then gasped in delight. "I see it!"

Then, before Skyfire could react, he was off like a shot. Starscream pivoted neatly between obstacles and leapt lightly over the rubble until he reached his prize. Skyfire ached to follow, but he didn't dare risk drawing attention with his larger, clumsier frame. Starscream snagged his weapon, which was far too close to the grappling mecha for comfort, and immediately turned back and bounded away. Skyfire didn't relax until Starscream was back at his side, no worse for wear. Starscream started to raise the rifle, but Skyfire stopped him.

"No," Skyfire said. "Not yet." The fighters were still rapidly trading blows, moving and turning too quickly for a reliable shot. They couldn't risk missing or, worse, hitting the wrong mech. The last thing they wanted was to attract either mech's attention again.

The battle continued; a match between two expert fighters. Both were wearing out as the battle took its toll, but neither gained a decisive advantage. Then Megatron's leg locked, almost giving out on him. Skyfire's breath caught in his throat as the Warlord staggered. Soundwave's sword darted forward, easily bypassing Megatron's suddenly lax defense. The heat damage had weakened the protective armor, and Soundwave's blade slid cleanly into Megatron's chest. The Warlord's optics flickered as he stumbled and, for a moment, Skyfire thought that was it.

Then Megatron's optics blazed back to life. His hand shot out to grab Soundwave's arm and, with the sword hilt still sticking out of his chest, Megatron threw Soundwave to the ground. He fell upon the Tapedeck then, pinning him under the Warlord's bulk, and raised his fist. His first blow dented Soundwave's visor. The Tapedeck's frame jerked, and his hands weakly rose to protect himself. It didn't work. Megatron didn't stop until Soundwave's mask and visor had completely shattered. Soundwave was completely limp, no longer even trying to fighting back, and his face was covered in energon, both his own and Megatron's.

Starscream raised the rifle and, this time, Skyfire didn't stop him. The tip of the barrel shook. Carefully, Skyfire placed his hands over his bondmate's, easily covering the Seeker's smaller digits, and steadied his aim. Starscream's hands trembled under his, but his determination never wavered.

Struggling for breath, Megatron stumbled back to his feet. He stared down at Soundwave, ignoring the rest of the room. "I am Megatron!" the Warlord roared. "I will not be deactivated by someone so _weak_!" He spread his arms wide, as if bowing before a crowd, tipped his head back, and started to laugh. The hilt of Soundwave's sword, drenched in energon, still jutted out of his chest.

To the side, with Starscream's back pressed against his chest, Skyfire felt the heat of the fully-charged blaster against his palm. Together, they aimed

and

_fired_.

The energy blast hit Megatron's chest dead center. The thin red beam passed through his reinforced armor like it wasn't even there, dissipating into his systems and reaching towards his spark. Surprise flickered across his face; it was short-lived.

Megatron fell.

~.*.~


End file.
